


your poision in my veins

by kordelicious



Category: Fifth Harmony (Band)
Genre: Blood, F/F, Romance, Sexual Content, Violence, mafia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-23
Updated: 2017-08-23
Packaged: 2018-12-19 04:36:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 25,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11890164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kordelicious/pseuds/kordelicious
Summary: Lauren is the daughter of the Mob Boss and Camila is the stripper she falls head over heels for.





	your poision in my veins

**Author's Note:**

> i honestly don't even know what this is. i wanted to write a smutty little piece with stripper!camila but somehow it turned into this 25k monster??? jfksderkjdsfhrekjf, i have no idea how i ended up here. anyways, i've been working on this forever and i really hope you guys enjoy it!

It is never easy to take a life.

It will never be, despite what her father says, Lauren has never found it easy, much less enjoyed it. There’s nothing enjoyable about watching life ebbing out of someone’s eyes as they choke in a pool of their own blood.

No, it’s never enjoyable, but it’s always, _always_ necessary, and Lauren will always do what’s necessary.

The soft sea breeze sweeps through the nearly empty warehouse and blows her midnight black hair across her pale face. Her green-blue eyes are as hard and cold as the steel of the gun in her hand. She studies the man crumbled in the chair across from her.

His name is Huck Stone, and he stares back at her with alarmingly dark green eyes; they remind Lauren of the snake that he is; he struck, fast and hard when they weren’t looking and now he’s paying the price for it.

He used to work for the family and was one of her father’s most trusted and closest soldiers. He got seduced by greed and Lauren caught him on his way out of the country with a bag full of properties that didn’t belong to him.

Lauren lifts the gun, tongue swiping across her red-painted bottom lip and asks.

“Any last words, Stone?”

Huck meets her gaze evenly, there’s no fear, just acceptance of his fate. He knew the risk of betraying them, properly ran over every possible scenario and still thought it was worth the risk.

Huck’s busted up lip pulls into a half smile. “Your father is going to be proud of you.”

Lauren is momentarily stunned by the words and she’s once again reminded that Huck has been with them since _forever_. He has seen her grow, has seen her walk on fire and jump through hoops to make her father proud.

She swallows. It’s always harder to kill one of their own.

But still necessary.

She pulls the trigger. The sound of the bullet piercing the air is silent, thanks to the suppresser and the only sound is the familiar one of the bullet tearing through Hank’s skull, splattering blood and brain everywhere, streaking Lauren’s cheek but she barely twitches. Hank’s body slumps and Lauren heaves a deep sigh.

“Clean it up,” she orders the men with her and they immediately move forward, collecting Hank’s corpse into a body bag with quick and practiced moves. 

She spins around and glares at Lucas, her twin brother. “You know, I can’t keep cleaning up after your mess, Lucas. You’re fucking lucky we caught him before he could escape. Papá would’ve had your neck.”

Lucas rolls his eyes. “I cleaned up after you when you left that _mess_ with Luthor and his wife. The FBI would be up our asses right now if it hadn’t been for me. So, I count us even, dear _manita_.”

“You wouldn’t have to clean it up if you weren’t the one to compromise it to begin with,” Lauren argues and holsters her gun. “You’re so messy and unprofessional. It’s a wonder that we’re the same age —”

“As much as your twin squabbling amuses me. I’m getting cold and I want to go home,” Normani interrupts her and the twins simultaneously turn to look at her. It’s a wonder that Normani can look like a model even under the unflattering, flickering warehouse bulbs as she stands there wrapped in black from head to toe.

“Do you want my jacket, babe?” Lucas offers smoothly and sheds off his leather jacket, covering Normani’s shoulders with it.

“Thank you,” Normani says.

“Of course.” Lucas says and watches her walk away with major heart-eyes. Lauren rolls her eyes so hard it hurts. Lucas has been chasing after Normani for as long as she remembers, but thankfully, her friend would have none of it. Lauren doesn’t want to be put in the awkward position of being stuck between her brother and friend.

“Let’s get out of this shithole.”

Lauren throws a last glance at the men carrying away the corpse in the direction of the harbor. They’ll find a boat and sail out into the ocean, where they will drop his body to the bottom of it.

They settle into Lucas sleek sports car, Normani in the passenger seat and Lauren in the backseat. 

“Do you want to listen to something, babe?” Lucas asks Normani, “Do you want me to put on some Beyoncé?”

Normani laughs. “You know me so well.”

Lauren groans as a Beyoncé song blasts out from the stereo on full volume. Lucas pulls out and recklessly speeds down the streets of Miami. The wind catches in their hair and Normani sings along with her soothing voice—like melting caramel — and Lucas stares at her adoringly.

Lauren leans forward and whacks him across the head. “Eyes on the road, moron.” 

Lucas glares bloody murder at her and grumbles an insult under his breath.

They arrive to their destination — Platinum. _The_ most exclusive club in all of Miami, owned by the Jauregui Family; only the prettiest, riches and most important people were allowed through its wide doors.

The club is only one of many fronts for the Jauregui family’s real underground business. They need a legitimate business to launder all their illegal, dirty money after all.

The club is almost empty when they arrive due to the early hours. It doesn’t roar to life till after midnight. The only people present are the employees and some of their business associates scattered around. Normani hangs back at the bar as the twins look for their father. They find him at his usual spot at one of the upstairs table, smoking and playing cards with a few of his men.

“Papá!” Lauren calls as she makes her way up the stairs. 

He studies them with that cool, razor shape gaze that feels like it can cut through you and dig out every secret you ever had as he asks evenly,

“Is it done then?”

Lauren nods gravelly. “Yes, Papá. It’s handled.”

At once, her father’s face transforms from Michael Jauregui, the ruthless Mob Boss to Michael Jauregui, the adoring father as his face breaks out in a smile, adding a few extra layers of crinkles by the corner of his eyes. 

“Of course you handled it. I knew you could.” 

Lauren beams like a sun under her father’s praise.

“It’s good that you have your sister looking out for you,” Michael tells Lucas who just pouts. “God knows, where you’d be without her.”

“Properly six feet under,” Lauren snorts and smirks when Lucas glares at her.

“Perhaps I’ll put _you_ six feet under,” her says under his breath but Michael hears and fixes him with a disapproving look that make Lucas curl in on himself.

“Lucas.”

“I’m sorry, Papá.” 

Michael’s face melts into a smile and he rises to his feet, slinging his arms over their shoulders and bringing them in for a tight, affectionate hug.

“I’m proud of you two,” He tells them, “You’ve grown into two formidable people.”

“Thank you, Papá,” They chorus.

“And tomorrow is a very special day, isn’t it?” Michael asks looking from Lauren to Lucas and back again.

Lucas and Lauren exchange glances, grinning from ear to ear. 

“Hell yeah it is!” Lucas hollers. “It’s our birthday.”

When the clock strikes midnight, it’ll officially be exactly 25 years since Lauren and Lucas were born—in that respective order—in Miami Central Hospital. Unfortunately, they lost their mother in the process, but their father had done everything in his power to give them whatever they needed and more. He sent them to the best schools, taught them all there was to know about their business and loved them with the fierceness of the sun.

“It’s my babies’ birthday!” Michael hollers and everyone in the club cheers loudly in response. “I’ve got a surprise for you. Emilio?”

Emilio, one of the men at their father’s table, pulls out a silver briefcase and places it on the table. Lauren exchanges a curious look with her brother and watches as her father clicks it open. She gasps at the revealed content.

It’s two handguns, but not any kind of guns. They’re custom made; one of is a startling gold with a black trim and the other is black with a golden trim. Both are engraved with initials on the grip; **LM**. 

“I thought you deserved something nice for all of your hard work,” Michael grins, obviously pleased with his twins’ stunned expression. “Take them. The gold one is for Lauren and the black for Lucas.”

Lauren and Lucas simultaneously turn to look at each other for a split second before they grab the guns, feeling the weight of them in their hands. Lauren runs her fingers along the smooth metal and the initials and there’s nothing that can describe the feeling of warmth spreading through her veins. 

She looks at her father, unable to find the words. “Papá.” And perhaps everything is in the way she says that one word. Michael opens his arms wide and Lauren sinks into them, hugging him tight.

“I can’t wait to use this,” Lucas’ eyes are bright with excitement. “I love it. Thank you, Papá.” 

“The rest of tonight’s drinks are on the house!” Michael announces. “We’re celebrating the birth of my babies tonight!” He kisses them on the top of their heads, muttering affectionately _te amo mis hijos_.

 

25 years.

Lauren can’t help but feel old. She has seen more than people her age will see in ten lifetimes, she’s seen the ugliest parts of humanity, but she has also witnessed the most breathtaking parts. 

She is too old for whatever foolery her and Lucas’ friends have planned to celebrate their 25 years of life.

She should be planning the next drop, but instead she has let Normani and Dinah and the others drag her to some _strip club_ downtown Miami. If their father knew about it, he would strongly disapprove. He has been raised on strong catholic values and has made sure to instill them in his children as well. If they didn’t have God, they had nothing, he would constantly remind them.

Yeah, he wouldn’t be pleased to know that his beloved children are at strip club that their friends have rented out in their honor. Lauren admits that it’s a nice strip club, or as nice as a strip club gets. There’s high up to the ceiling, the bar is enormous, colorful balloons everywhere and a huge birthday cake towering in a corner. 

“Let me guess, this was Dinah’s idea,” Lauren snorts, but she lets her eyes slide appreciatively over the half-naked girls and boys either dancing on the poles or mingling among the crowd, serving colorful drinks.

“You know how she is,” Normani responds in a way of explaining. Lauren glances at her and catches the way she’s watching Lucas, who’s hungrily eyeing all the half-naked girls. Lauren doesn’t like the look in Normani’s eyes, but she doesn’t won’t to worry about it. Not tonight. Tonight is not a night of worries, it’s a night of unwinding.

“Speaking of the devil.” Lauren drawls when she sees Dinah approaching them in mile-long heels and even longer extensions, her tits almost spilling out of her low-cut, skintight dress. 

“My babes are here!” She shouts and pulls Lauren and Lucas into a hug. “Happy birthday, you old fucks! We can finally get this party started!”

“You’re insane,” Lauren laughs and accepts the drink Dinah pushes into her hand. “Our father would flip if he saw all of this.”

“What Daddy Dearest doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” Dinah says with a wink.

“Amen to that, babe!” Lucas laughs and downs his drink in one go. 

“Yas, baby!” Dinah cheers and grabs Lucas wrist, pulling him onto the dance floor.

Lauren shakes her head with a smile and takes a sip of her sugary drinks. She lets her gaze wander over the familiar faces, then to the dancers on stage.

That’s when she sees her.

She’s different, _young_ ; younger than most of the other strippers. She can’t have reached her 20 years yet. Nonetheless, she’s absolutely _magnetic_ , commanding Lauren’s full attention as she grinds on stage. She has long, wavy dark hair that bounces around her sweet, young face, and her hooded eyes are smoldering. The tight hot pants and bralette she’s wearing leaves little to the imagination; her body is a work of art; she’s small and slim, waist and tits tiny and ass huge.

Lauren doesn’t even realize that she has moved before she finds herself close to the stage, and the girl’s eyes are on her, sending a warm thrill rushing through Lauren’s body. She gives Lauren a smile and it’s all _wrong_ ; it’s cute, yet deadly sending Lauren’s heart into a full gallop.

Lauren feels hypnotized as she watches the girl move her body to the steady beat thumping through the club. She dances sensually, she flips her hair, runs her fingers through it, palming down her chest, her flat tummy, fingertips dancing teasingly over her crotch, rubbing down her legs. 

Lauren can’t look away and the girl stares right back at her. Lauren isn’t the only watching her, there’s a few of her friends gathered around, some of them throw money at the girl and someone slings an arm around Lauren’s shoulder, yelling _Happy B-Day_ into her ear, but she barely registers it. The only thing Lauren can see is this girl and they’ve created a bubble where only the two of them exists.

The girl breaks their intense eye contact when she spins around and shakes her ass and the guys around Lauren hollers. One of them, Dylan, reaches out and strokes her leg, and Lauren is overcome with the desire to break his fingers. The girl moves out of reach and shakes a disapproving finger at Dylan with a coy smile. 

Once the dance is over, Lauren is disappointed. She wouldn’t have minded spending the rest of her days watching that girl dance. The girl climbs off the stage and Lauren grabs a frothy, pink drink off a bypassing waiter’s tray and approaches.

“Hi,” Lauren greets and offers the drink to the girl.

The girl smiles that dangerous smile at her and sips delicately to the drink. “Hello. Happy birthday.”

“Thank you.”

Lauren steps closer and she smells the girl’s perfume, strong and addictive. “What’s your name, pretty thing?”

The girl swipes her tongue along her pouty, slightly chapped lips and replies, “Karla.”

“Karla,” Lauren repeats and searches the girl’s— _Karla’s_ eyes. If there’s one skill that’s crucial in her line of work, it’s the ability to read people. She needs to be able to detect truths and lies and read into every little flicker of their eyes and predict their thoughts and their actions. It’s a skill that has saved her life countless of times.

She can tell that Karla isn’t telling the truth, but she isn’t outright lying either. Karla might not be her real name, but it’s doubtlessly the name she uses when she’s working.

Lauren wants to know her real name. She wants to know everything there is to know about this woman.

“Nice to meet you, Karla.” Lauren extends her hand. “My name is—”

“Lauren,” Karla smiles, and Lauren worships the sound of her name in Karla’s raspy voice. “I know. You’re the birthday girl.”

“Do you do this often?” Lauren asks her, gesturing towards the stage. She already knows the answer. Karla’s skill is unmistakable, and Lauren knows it’s a tired cliché but a beautiful, young girl like her doesn’t belong up there.

Karla nods and takes another sip of her drink, throwing her hair over shoulder. “Yes. I work here.” She watches Lauren with intense eyes. “Is there anything you want me to do? Any particular song you want me to dance to?” She slinks closer, sensually, like a cat, her voice dropping an octave. “Perhaps you want a lapdance?”

Lauren’s breath catches in her throat with arousal and she would love nothing more than feel Karla’ tight, little body grinding against her. 

She’s about to take Karla up on her offer, but then Normani is grabbing her arm and dragging her along.

“Babe, Lucas and Dinah has had a bit too much to drink and they’re on stage stripping competitively,” Normani tells her, “You have to help me stop them before their nude pictures ends up in the tabloids.”

Lauren exhales a deeply annoyed groan and throws a longing look over her shoulder at Karla who’s watching her go. There’s nothing Lauren wants more than return to her and feel her skin under her fingers, but she knows she needs to intervene before Dinah and Lucas make a fool of themselves. The Jaureguis are a public family well-known for their countless of (public) business ventures and it would be in bad taste if Lucas bare ass got plastered everywhere. Their father would throw a fit and properly sentence Lucas to a month straight of toilet duty. 

Something similar has happened before. 

Dinah and Lucas are flailing on stage both nearly down to their underwear and with Normani’s help, she drags them down and forces water down their throats to sober them up.

“I love you, sis!” Lucas slurs and drapes himself over Lauren, nuzzling into her neck. “You’re my favorite sister.”

“I’m your only sister, moron.” Is Lauren’s dry response, but she smiles and runs her fingers through his curls. She’s used to this behavior; Lucas is always overly affectionate and touchy-feely when he’s smashed. He starts rambling about one thing or another, but Lauren isn’t listening, she’s watching Karla get back on stage and dance.

She wants to watch her soft looking skin up close but Dinah ambushes her the next second and doesn’t leave her side for the remaining of the night. Lauren keeps throwing yearning looks towards Karla and Karla looks back every now and then until she suddenly isn’t there anymore.

Lauren doesn’t know where she disappeared off to but she feels a deep loss at her absence. She finds herself incapable of enjoying the rest of the night and she dips out early when no one is looking. 

That night she stays up to the early hours of the morning recollecting the way Karla moved her hips in slow, sensual circles.

Lauren knows that she should shove Karla out of her mind and get her head back in the game. Except she can’t. Lauren has only known—no, not known, _seen_ Karla for a couple of hours, but yet she has managed to carve out a large portion of Lauren’s mind and settle there, an ever-present and distractive presence. 

Lauren lasts about two days before she finds herself back at the strip club. It’s different, more packed, majority of the clientele older men, and Lauren can easily tell that they are married, some of them haven’t even bothered slipping off the golden band wrapped around their fingers. Lauren is disgusted, but then she remembers that she has no business being here either.

She slides into a stool by the bar and orders a whiskey, her gaze scanning the dancers on stage and she feels a pang of disappointment when she doesn’t see Karla. She told her she worked here and Lauren hadn’t detected any lies in that statement. She decides to stay a bit longer and wait, hoping that Karla’s shift hasn’t started yet.

She’s approached by a few leering men, but she shuts them down, promising bloody torture if they don’t leave her alone. She finishes her drink and orders another one, watching the condensation slide down the glass and drip onto the blank, wooden surface of the counter.

Then she hears her name.

“Give a warm welcome to one of our favorite girls— _Karla_!”

The crowd goes insane with cheers, whistles and cat-calls. Lauren’s face whips towards the stage so fast it’s a wonder she doesn’t get whiplash, and she stops breathing as she watches with wide, round eyes as Karla struts on stage. She’s wearing a bedazzled mask and a little, black leather trench coat that barely covers her ass, her naked legs seem longer with the ridiculously tall high heels she’s wearing. She smiles that lethal smile at her crowd, driving them wild.

She walks across the stage towards the chair in the middle—Jesus, even the way she _walks_ is sinful—and she takes a backwards seat on it. A song starts playing and it takes a moment for Lauren to recognize it as a Marilyn Monroe song, and the only reason she does is because her father has all her records and has been constantly playing them since she was little. 

Karla starts moving to the beat and the crowd screams when she turns around on the chair, spreading her legs with a sly little smile on her pink mouth. Karla moves with lightness and grace even when her moves are so dirty. The crowd can’t get enough and shower her with bills. Lauren can’t get enough either. Karla dramatically rips off her trench coat and throws it into the crowd, revealing criss-cross black lace underwear. It’s first then Lauren feels the distinct wetness in her throbbing center.

Lauren watches her whole set from the back of the club and goes through two more glasses of alcohol trying to quench a thirst she knows isn’t for liquid.

Once Karla walks off stage, Lauren doesn’t have to find her, Karla comes to her. Lauren hasn’t moved an inch from her seat when Karla appears next to her, smelling simultaneously of sweetness and trouble.

She has changed into a wine-red corset and thigh highs and Lauren doesn’t even bother to hide the way she eyes her from top to toe.

“Hi,” Karla greets, voice syrupy sweet.

Lauren smiles. “Hi.”

Karla leans against the counter and studies Lauren. “What are you doing here?”

“I guess the other night wasn’t enough for me,” She admits shamelessly. “You were incredible up there.”

“Thank you.”

There’s silence for a moment and they just stare at each other. 

“Can I buy you a drink?” Lauren asks.

“And what do you want in return?” Karla asks earnestly and Lauren is stunned by the question for a moment, reminded where she is.

“Just your company.”

“I can’t,” Karla says. “I’m working right now.”

Before Lauren can form a response there’s suddenly a sweaty, middle aged man reaching for Karla. “Hey you, how much for a private show?”

Karla turns to him with a smile “40 bucks for one dance, sir.”

“Fuck! That’s expensive,” The old bastard grumbles but he’s reaches for his wallet nonetheless.

Lauren is pressing a 100 bill into Karla’s palm before the guy can even fish his wallet out. “I’ll have that dance.”

Karla blinks surprised. “It’s fourty for a dance.”

“Hey! I came before you!” The man exclaims disgruntled.

Lauren ignores him and grabs Karla’s. “Then I’ll just have one more.”

She drags the girl towards those private rooms in the back where she’s seen strippers lead their customers towards. 

 

“This way.” Karla leads her into one of the empty rooms. The room is illuminated in a neon pink glow, there’s a pole in the middle of the room and a chair covered in red velvet; it’s so cliché it’s almost painful. Lauren doesn’t care. She’s just happy that she’s alone with Karla away from all the hungry, leering eyes. 

Karla leads her to the chair and gently pushes her down on it. She saunters over to the stereo and puts on a song with a slow, sultry beat and Lauren vaguely recognizes the song. Karla walks towards her with dark eyes; like a predator who’s spotted a vulnerable pray on the open field.

She sways her hips and raises her arms in the air, lifting her hair along with it before letting it fall over her shoulder. She suddenly drops to her knees, then onto her hands, crawling towards Lauren, and if she didn’t look like a prowling lion before, she certainly does now. She grabs Lauren’s knees and spreads them apart sending a current of electricity running through Lauren’s veins. Karla slides between her knees and strokes Lauren’s chest, brushing over her hard nipples and Lauren bites down a moan.

Karla stands up and lowers herself into Lauren’s lap, a delicious weight on top of her. She grinds in her lap and creates a delicious friction, her petite tits brushing against Lauren’s chest.

Lauren doesn’t even realize that her hands have moved to grab Karla’s hips before Karla is removing her hands, wriggling a finger in her face.

“No touching.”

Lauren lets out a shuddery breath and lets her arms fall by her side helplessly.

Karla stands up and thrusts her hips in Lauren’s face, and Lauren stares at the spot between Karla’s legs. The fact that there’s a few inches and a flimsy piece of clothing between Lauren and Karla’s pussy drives Lauren insane. She wants to lean in and lick her until she has Karla screaming.

Karla sinks back in her lap and pushes her fingers in Lauren’s hair, smirking down at her. She must feel powerful, Lauren thinks, knowing that she has Lauren at her complete mercy, knowing that she has Lauren _dripping_. Lauren knows what it’s like to be in control, a feeling she’s addicted to but right now, she doesn’t mind being controlled at all.

Karla lifts herself up, turns around and drops down, wriggling her butt in Lauren’s face, and it has Lauren wondering if there’s such a thing as being teased to death. She sits back, facing Lauren and rotates her hips as if they aren’t connected to the rest of her body. Her mouth falls open as if she’s about to moan, but the only thing she does is pant. Lauren wants to lean in and steal a taste.

The dance is over faster than Lauren would’ve liked, but then she remembers she paid for more. She doesn’t get the chance to cash it before her phone goes off, her father’s face flashing on the screen.

“I have to go.” Lauren tells Karla reluctantly after hanging up.

“Wait, let me get your change,” Karla says but before she can walk off, Lauren grabs her wrist, shaking her head. 

“No, keep it. Perhaps…tell me your real name?”

Karla smiles slyly and slips her wrist out of Lauren’s grip. “I believe I’ve already told you. It’s Karla.”

Lauren smirks. “No it’s not. It’s alright. You’ll tell me soon enough.”

Karla tilts her head and appears amused. “You sound very confident.”

Lauren just shoots her a grin. “See you.” And leaves.

 

Lauren keeps coming back to the strip club every chance she can. And the nights that she’s working, the only thing that occupies her mind is when she can see Karla again. It becomes a routine, almost. She comes a few minutes short of Karla’s set, takes a seat by the bar and has a few drinks. She watches Karla’s entire set, watches the different costumes every night, the different routines, the way she moves her body like she was born to do it. She loves every moment of it, except the part where there are middle-aged men cat-calling Karla, watching her with hungry eyes and touching her without her permission. After Karla’s set, she always comes and find Lauren by the bar and takes her hand, leading her to one of the private rooms.

The private sessions are addictive but maddening, always leaving her wanting more, she always comes home hot and bothered, soaked through a new pair of underwear. But she can’t stop coming. Karla is a drug and Lauren comes back for a fix every time without fail. 

Sometimes Karla lets her touch her for a few seconds before she smacks her hand away. Sometimes she will touch Lauren but it’s always brief, always fleeting, never enough Sometimes when she’s thrusting her crotch in Lauren’s face, Lauren can _smell_ how wet Karla is and it drives her to absolute madness with the knowledge that she isn’t the only one left high and dry by the end of it.

Every night, Lauren tries to talk to her, hungry to know more about her. She keeps asking for Karla’s real name, but Karla shoots her down every time.

If Lauren is one thing, she’s determined and she didn’t get as far as he has by giving up. So, she doesn’t give up and then finally after nearly _two_ weeks, Karla finally cracks and agrees to let Lauren take her on a date.

Lauren can’t believe it. 

“W-what. Really?”

She watches Karla pull her hair up in a ponytail and dry her neck with a towel. 

“Yes, if anything to shatter whatever illusion you have of me and spare you the money you waste every night.”

“You think I have an illusion of you?”

Karla shrugs. “What else could it be? You don’t even know me, yet you come every night to blow money on me. If I had less of a consciousness, I would take the money and play along for as long as it lasted.”

Lauren wants to tell her that she knew she was special from the day she laid eyes on her. She doesn’t.

“I just want to get to know you.”

Karla sighs. “Okay. I’m off Thursday Night.”

“Can I have your number?” Lauren asks eagerly, but to her disappointment Karla shakes her head. “I just want to be in contact with you when I’m picking you up and all that.”

“You can pick me up in front of the club. 8 pm.” 

Lauren doesn’t want to push her luck. She’ll have Karla the way she wants her soon enough. She nods and smiles.

“I’m looking forward to it.”

 

Lauren narrowly dodges the blows that come in fast successions, almost too fast for her to anticipate. Lucas kicks out at her and she catches his ankle. She’s too slow to do anything with it and she knows her mistake when she sees the smug smirk on Lucas’ face. Lauren steels herself as Lucas launches in the air and kicks her in the temple, sending her stumbling back on unsteady feet.

“Come on, sis, you’re boring me,” he taunts after gracefully landing in a crotch. He rises to his feet and mocks a _’come at me’_ gesture at her.

Lauren scoffs and blows a few strands of hair that have escaped her ponytail out of her face. She charges at him and throws out a kick intended to catch him in the kidney but he easily dodges, sweeping his legs in a wide arch, knocking Lauren’s feet from under her.

Lauren lands heavily on her back with a sharp gasp as the air is knocked out of her lungs. She snarls irritated and jumps back on her feet. She thrusts her fist towards Lucas. He catches her fist and wrenches her arm behind her back, kicking her feet from under her and Lauren grunts at the impact. Lucas presses his knee into her back, successfully keeping her down.

“Get off,” Lauren demands and Lucas laughs, rising to his feet. He offers her his hand and she begrudgingly takes it. 

“That was weak, Ralph!” Dinah shouts from the other end of the gym where she’s spotting Normani doing bench presses. 

Lauren honestly feels embarrassed and she ignores her friend, grabbing a towel and dapping off the sweat from her face and neck. She grabs a water bottle and chucks down half the content, sinking into a bench with a heavy sigh.

Lucas sits down next to her and stares at her with a scrutinizing gaze. “What’s going on with you?”

Lauren avoids his eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You literally lasted less than five minutes out there,” Lucas points out. “You were so distracted. What is it?”

“I’m not,” Lauren argues even though she most definitely is. Later today, she’s going to pick Karla up for their date and she can’t stop thinking about it.

“Stop bullshitting me. I know you better than anyone and you’ve been in your head for _weeks_. You know you can’t afford to be distracted like that.”

“It’s nothing,” Lauren insists. 

Lucas frowns. “Since when did we start lying to each other?” He sounds disappointed enough for Lauren to feel guilty. Lauren knows that she can trust Lucas with her life, she’s already done it countless of times and he’s always shown that he’s got her back without fail. She just isn’t ready yet to tell him about Karla, because she knows how he would react to the fact that Lauren has been obsessed with the stripper from weeks ago. 

“Whatever, just get your shit together.” He stands up and joins Dinah and Normani.

 

Lauren is there to pick Camila up ten minutes earlier, pulling her sleek, expensive car up against the curb across from the strip club. She sits there and waits, feeling vaguely stupid for how excited she is and how long it took her to find an outfit she’s satisfied with. She ended up settling on all black since that is always a safe bet; black skinny jeans, black crop top and her favorite leather jacket.

She steps out of the car and takes a seat on the hood, lighting a cigarette as she waits. She has gone over her plans for tonight in her head for the millionth time. She is tempted to go all out, but she doesn’t want to come on too strong—though it might be too late for that—she wants Karla to feel comfortable.

She realizes that it’s past the time they agreed upon and there’s no sign of Karla. She tells herself that Karla will show up, but as the minutes ticks by, she feels anxious and burns through a few more cigarettes, the nicotine failing to calm her nerves.

In her 25 years of life she has never been stood up before, if anything she’s stood up loads of people and she wonders if karma has finally come to bite her in the ass. She doesn’t even have a number she can call and she’s about to lose her patience when Karla finally shows up.

Lauren straightens up as she watches Karla walks towards her from down the street and she’s spell-bound in a completely different manner. Karla looks like an entirely different person in her minimal makeup and simple, baby blue summer dress, a far cry from the sexy, devious vixen Lauren has come to know. Now, Karla looks like a normal, young woman, and if Lauren hadn’t seen her grinding on stage, she’d say she even looks _innocent_.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” Karla says as she comes to a stop in front of Lauren, smiling softly and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. 

“Oh no worries.” Lauren waves it off as if she hadn’t been crawling out of her skin five seconds ago. “You look pretty.”

Karla lowers her gaze and looks almost bashful. “Thank you.”

Lauren opens the car door for her before sliding into the driver’s seat and pulling out, zooming down the street.

“Where are you taking me?” Karla asks curiously, glancing at Lauren.

“Are you hungry?”

“I’m always hungry,” Karla replies and Lauren laughs, feeling so fucking endeared.

“I know a good place.”

Lauren takes them to one of her favorite spots, a little, cozy restaurant hidden away in a nook—it’s neither too fancy nor too shabby, just a comfortable place with nice live music in the background. Lauren leads Karla to the seat she got them in the back and orders them food and wine.

“I’m really happy you agreed to go out with me,” Lauren says and watches Karla as she takes a delicate sip of her wine. It’s fascinating how different Karla appears to be outside the strip club, she’s quiet and shy and seems almost uncomfortable. Lauren’s goal in life is to break down her walls before the night is over.

“I don’t know what you think you’re getting out of this.” Karla stares at her with a confused frown.

Lauren raises a brow. “What do you mean by that?”

Karla briefly licks over her slightly chapped lips and averts her gaze for a moment. She opens her mouth as if to say something, but then thinks better of it and stays quiet.

“I can only imagine what kind of people you’ve encountered in your line of work,” Lauren says quietly, leaning in a little closer to peer into Karla’s wide, caramel eyes. “I swear I don’t have any ulterior motives. As I’ve told you, I just want to know you and all I’m asking for is one chance, please?”

Karla glances back at her, uncertainty clear in the depth of her eyes. She looks down and breathes out a sigh.

“Okay. I’ll give you one chance, but in exchange, you have to promise to never return to the club if that’s what I want by the end of the night.”

Lauren nods. “That’s fair enough.” Then she grins, big and enthusiastic and it draws a smile from Karla as well.

“So, Karla, how old are you?” Lauren asks curiously.

Karla blinks and shrugs a bit. “I’m nineteen. Turning twenty soon.”

Lauren wonders what someone as young and beautiful as Karla is doing as a stripper, but she knows that’s a conversation for another day.

“Where do you work?” Karla asks her.

The lie is practiced and easy. “I work as a club manager.”

“You must make a lot of money,” Karla comments.

Lauren is surprised by that statement and she studies Karla as she asks, “Why do you think that?”

Karla shrugs and brings her wine glass to her pink mouth, eyeing Lauren over the rim. “You’ve spent a couple of thousands on a stripper you don’t know for the past couple of weeks, so clearly you’ve got your ass full of money. That, or you’re just a spoiled kid with rich parents.”

Lauren is delighted and laughs. “It sounds like you’ve got me all figured out.”

Karla smiles. “I’m trying to make sense of you. I’m good at reading people, because I _have_ to be, you know? And I can always categorize all my customers with ease—the married one, the guilty one, the closeted gay one—but no matter how hard I look, I can’t see through you.”

Lauren leans closer, skin warming under Karla’ intense scrutiny. The reason Karla can’t see through her, is probably because Lauren has had years in training to conceal herself. 

“Well, I’m happy I intrigue you,” Lauren says with a smirk.

“I didn’t say that.”

“Ouch.” Lauren feigns a wounded expression. “I’ll hopefully be able to change that.”

The food arrives and Karla digs in without reservation and Lauren wouldn’t mind just sitting and watching her eat—subconsciously she knows she’s completely gone for this girl that she barely knows—it strikes her that perhaps the fastest way into Karla’s heart is through her stomach. As the dinner progresses, Karla becomes more and more comfortable the more food and wine she gets in her.

She starts telling her all the weird and absurdly hillarious experiences she’s had working at the club, and she finishes telling Lauren about a guy who would pay a lot of money just to take pictures of the dancer’s feet. Lauren is somewhat concerned but mostly amused and endeared because Karla is laughing so hard, her cheeks are red.

After the dinner, Lauren asks Karla if she’d like to go on a walk with her on the beach and Karla’s eyes light up.

“I love the beach. I love the ocean breeze, it calms me.”

The moon is full hanging high in the inky black sky, it’s light bouncing off the dark water. It’s beautiful, but not as beautiful as Karla is when she slips off her shoes because she wants to feel the sand underneath her feet.

“So, when are you are you going to ask me?”

Lauren blinks at Karla. “Ask you what?”

“Why I’m a stripper?” Karla studies her curiously. “I’m surprised you haven’t asked me yet.”

“Do you want me to ask you?”

Karla falls silent for a moment. She stops and turns to gaze at the moon. “It’s a too beautiful night for my sob story.” She smiles. “Look at how gorgeous the moon is.”

Lauren stops as well but she doesn’t admire the moon, she admires the beauty of Karla’s profile instead. 

“Your beauty shine brighter.” She reaches out and lightly catches a strand of Karla’s hair.

Karla turns to her, wide-eyed and moves out of her reach, a pretty pink color dusting her cheekbones. She starts walking again and Lauren falls into step next to her.

“How many have fallen under your spell?” Karla asks.

“What do you mean?” Lauren inquires, amused.

“Don’t play dumb with me,” Karla says with a hint of a smirk. “You know how beautiful you are and I can only imagine how many people you’ve had to look at with those eyes to get whatever you wanted.”

“I’m really flattered that you think I’m beautiful—“

“Please, Jauregui,” Karla rolls her eyes and smiles, “You’ve never met someone who’ve told you otherwise.”

“Neither have you, I imagine,” Lauren counters and fishes out her cigarette pack from her jeans. “Okay if I smoke?”

“When did you start smoking?” Karla asks as she watches Lauren struggle a bit with the lighter and she steps close to help her cover against the breeze.

“Um, I think when I was 15?” Lauren frowns as she tries to recall. “I remember I caught Lucas sneaking around with them and he begged me not to tell dad. I said I wouldn’t as long as he shared.”

“You’re very close with your brother?”

“We’re twins,” Lauren responds as if that’s enough explanation—she supposes it is, she doesn’t believe that there are twins who don’t’ share a close relationship.

“I know. I was there at your birthday, remember?” Karla teases. “You are identical twins, aren’t you? He looks a lot like you.”

“Yeah. We looked a lot more like each other before puberty hit, like people couldn’t tell us apart and we had a lot of fun with pranks.”

Karla’s smile is wistful. “I wish I had a twin.”

“They’re a pain most of the time,” Lauren jokes. “Don’t you have siblings?”

Karla shakes her head. “I don’t.”

Lauren is curious as to whether she has any family in Miami at all and if she does, if they know where she works or if she leads a double-life—perhaps Lauren has more in common with her than she originally thought.

Karla lets Lauren drive her home. She lives in poorer, run-down part of town with potholes in the road and homelessness decorating the walls, and Lauren thinks that perhaps Karla doesn’t make as much as a stripper as she thought. She pulls up to her apartment complex and notices a couple of guys standing a couple of blocks away, obviously selling and buying drugs.

Lauren is unsettled by leaving Karla here and she feels the urge to take her home with her to her penthouse apartment in downtown Miami. Karla descends the car and Lauren follows her to say goodbye.

“Thank you for tonight,” Karla says, looking sweet and shy. “I had a lot of fun.”

Lauren smiles and slyly draws closer. “Me too. I hope we can do it again. Soon.”

Karla smiles and nods. “Perhaps.”

Lauren is close now, close enough that she can lean in, tilt her head and touch her lips to Karla. She searches Karla’s eyes for permission, her hand slowly coming up to cradle Karla’s elbow. Karla’s lashes flutter, her gaze dropping briefly to Lauren’s lips and then back to her eyes. She doesn’t have to say more.

Lauren cups her cheeks and leans in, planting a sweet, lingering kiss on her lips and it’s everything she expected and more. She feels the warmth of attraction tingle every surface of her skin and her heart drumming up a rhythm in her chest. She deepens the kiss a bit and briefly slips her tongue in Karla’s mouth before she pulls back.

Karla’s eyes are half-lidded and she looks like she’s waiting for Lauren to kiss her again but Lauren steps away, smiling.

“I’ll see you soon, Karla.”

Karla snaps back to attention, subconsciously bringing her fingers to her lips. She stares at Lauren for a moment, then turns on her heels. She takes a few steps, stops and looks over her shoulder.

“It’s Camila. My name is Camila.”

She shoots Lauren a coy smile, turns on her heels and struts away, a swing in her hips.

 

“What the fuck are you smiling at?”

Lucas and Normani are staring at Lauren as if she’s a lunatic, even Dinah who’s driving the car has her eyes on her instead of on the road ahead.

The smile falters from her lips and she offers them a careless shrug. “Nothing.”

“Don’t give me that ‘nothing’ bullshit, girl!” Dinah berates and takes a sharp left turn in too high gear sending Lauren crashing into the door and Normani into Lucas.

“DJ!” Normani complains and straightens up. Lucas appears unhappy that he no longer has an armful of her. “I would love to get there in one piece!”

“Sorry, baby girl!” Dinah flashes her the most unapologetic grin and doesn’t slow down. “Anyways, Laurenzo, who’s got you smiling like that? You finally found yourself a good length of dick?”

Lucas wrinkles his nose in disgust. “Ew.”

Lauren rolls her eyes. “Can a girl just be happy for the heck of it?”

“Sure,” Normani drawls, eyeing her with suspicion. “But we’re on our way to the Lipovsky twins and you shouldn’t look like Christmas came early since you despise their guts.”

Right. The infamous _Lipovsky Twins_. They descended from an old but extinct Russian mob family. They got destroyed back in the 70s in the mafia wars between the Latinos and the Irish for the control of Miami and most of South Florida. The Irish were gone now, whatever was left of them scattered across the west coast, only dreaming about being as big and powerful as they once were. The Latinos created a peaceful alliance with the Russian family, and they are responsible for smuggling in 80% of the guns the Latinos sold.

The Lipovsky Twin’s father Dmitry Lipovsky was a close friend of Michael Jauregui but he passed away last year, leaving the business in the hands of his sons. Unlike their father, the sons are cocky and obnoxious, at times irresponsible—like that time they nearly lost a shit-ton of the Jauregui’s gun that could’ve sparked a bloody war that would’ve annihilated them—and Lauren dislikes them strongly. 

“I can’t wait to get eye-raped tonight,” Lucas mutters sarcastically.

Oh, and that too. The Lipovsky Twins don’t hide that they fuck everything and everyone, it doesn’t matter if they have a pussy or a dick—their salacious lifestyle did little to impress Papá Jauregui, but he knew business was more important and ignored their private lives—and they’ve had an eye on Lucas since he was about 21. They’ve openly approached him with sexual offers countless of times, never discouraged by Lucas constant rejections.

Every time they’re around, Lauren is one hundred percent more protective of Lucas—he is her baby brother after all, even if by only a couple of hours.

“Have you ever thought about taking them up on their offer?” Dinah asks, glancing at Lucas through the rear mirror.

Lucas visibly shudders. “Fuck no! Are you kidding me? I’d rather walk barefooted through burning coal. Hell, I’d rather you shoot me over and over again. I wouldn’t mind being gruesomely tortured instead—”

“I think we get it,” Normani interrupts with a laugh. She reaches out and takes Lucas’ hand, squeezing softly. “And we would rather die than let them put a hand on you.”

“Aw, baby,” Lucas coos, cozying up to Normani and Lauren turns to stare at them, wondering when the fuck _that_ happened.

“Laurenzo, take the wheel for a second,” Dinah tells her before Lauren can think further of whatever is happening in the backseats.

“Wait—what?” Her face whips towards Dinah and is shocked to find the girl applying her lipstick carelessly as if she hasn’t let go of the steering wheel. Lauren moves fast and grabs it, saving them from tipping into the opposite lane and getting smashed by a truck.

“Dinah!” She cries exasperated. She shouldn’t be surprised, Dinah always pulls shit like this and will probably be the reason Lauren dies early of a heart attack.

“Thank you, babe,” Dinah grins once she’s applied her dark red lipstick. “You know I can’t go in there looking like a mess.”

Lauren rolls her eyes. “Just get us there in one piece. Please.”

Her phone beeps in her pocket and she fishes it out, automatically smiling upon seeing a text from Camila. It’s a funny meme, and Lauren didn’t get the concept of memes before Camila used a whole evening explaining it to her. She had been so adorably passionate that Lauren had played dumb just to listen to her talk with that twinkle in her eyes.

“Okay, you’re _definitely_ fucking someone,” Dinah says, and she attempts to grab Lauren’s phone but thanks to her quick reflexes, Lauren bats her hand away.

“Aw, come on, tell me, tell me!” Dinah whines. “I always tell you when I’m fucking someone.”

“Yeah and you always give more details than I asked for,” Lauren snorts. “I’m not fucking anyone. I swear.”

“You might not be fucking with someone, but something is definitely going on with you.” Normani observes her with her watchful eyes. “You were smiling at your phone like a teenager with a crush.”

Lauren glances at Normani over her shoulder and catches eyes with Lucas. He’s staring at her with a raised brow, obviously prompting her to spill.

Lauren waves them off. “Stop being so focused on me and focus on the task at hand. We’re almost there.”

“You know, the more you deny it, the harder I want to find out,” Dinah points out.

Lauren ignores her even though her words make her nervous. She knows her friends can easily find out what she’s hiding if she wants to and she isn’t ready for that yet. Thankfully, they pull up to the Lipovsky Twins’ mansion and her friends stop drilling her, putting on their professional faces.

There are two tall, expressionless guards at the door, dressed all in black. They speak into their earpiece when they see them approaching. Lauren takes the lead and announces their arrival. They’re let into the house and led through the expansive, flashy living room, up the carpeted stairs. They’re patted down in front of a room and asked to show their weapons.

Finally, they’re allowed into the room; it’s obscured by marijuana and cigarette smoke, the smell of liquor hanging thickly in the air. Lauren concentrates hard on not gagging. A slow, mellow beat dances through the air.

The Lipovsky Twins are sprawled out on their cushions surrounded by nude females and a couple of boys who barely look like they’re legal.

“The Jauregui Twins! Welcome!” Ivan Lipovsky exclaims and throws his arm out to the side with a wide grin. His eyes are completely red and dazed, a fat cigar hanging between his fingers. Ivan is more square-faced than his brother, Igor, and just the tiniest bit taller.

“You look beautiful as always,” Igor says and slides his gaze over Lucas hungrily even though he’s dandling a twink on his knee. Lauren can’t help but notice his pretty smile and perfectly empty eyes.

“Ivan. Igor.” Lauren greets dispassionately. “I have the payment. Do you have the guns?”

Ivan and Igor laughs. “Of course we have the guns! When have we ever let you down, Green Eyes?”

“Don’t call me that,” Lauren says with a forced smile. “I’d like to see the guns.” 

Igor clicks his tongue. “You’re no fun, Jauregui. Pull that stick out of your arse and come sit down. Have a drink with us—go get them something to drink, boy!” He pushes the boy out of his lap and slaps his ass, making him scurry away.

“We don’t want drinks.” Lucas impatiently steps up next to Lauren and levels the Lipovsky Twins with heated eyes. “We don’t have time for this. Take your money and give us our guns. Now.”

“You’re so hot when you’re bossy, boy,” Ivan hums appreciatively. “How about your sister and her girlfriends leave with the guns and you stay party with us? We could show you a wonderful time.”

Dinah disguises snort.

Lucas catches Lauren off guard when he suddenly pulls out his gun and aims at Ivan. The girls at Ivan’s feet scream and scatter. “How about I just riddle your body with bullets? How is that for a good time?”

Lauren shouldn’t be surprised. The Lipovsky has been pushing their luck with their unwanted advances, and it is clear to Lauren that Lucas saw it as an insult; as if they saw him as a pretty boy instead of an equal. As much as Lauren would enjoy Lucas ridding the earth of the Lipovsky, neither parties can afford a shoot-out right now and their Papá would’ve their heads.

“Easy boy,” Igor says, quiet and dangerous. “I didn’t know you to be stupid.”

“Who are you calling stupid?” Lucas glowered and clicked off the safety of his gun.

“Lucas,” Lauren says through gritted teeth. “Enough.”

Lucas doesn’t lower the gun. Not until Normani steps forward and delicately grabs his wrist, whispering something Lauren can’t hear. Lucas takes a deep breath, glances at Normani and nods. He puts the gun away and the tension lifts.

“You’re such killjoys,” Ivan complains. He exchanges a look with his brother, then Igor claps his hand and a pair of square table covered in white silk sheets are wheeled in. The sheets are ripped off, revealing gorgeous, glistening metal and Lauren’s heart soars at the sight.

It’s breathtaking.

They’re new, exclusive guns from Germany—only a few of them manufactured in the world and the Jaureguis were going to be one of the sole owners. Lauren holds her breath as she circles the table and run her fingers along the surface. Her brother does the same while Normani and Dinah watches with wide-eyed interest.

“Beautiful, aren’t they?” Ivan muses, walking up to them.

All Lauren can do is nod. “Yeah. And it’s all here?”

Normani steps forward, fishing out a book, checking off all the items. “Everything is here.”

Half an hour later, they’re leaving the Lipovsky’s house, zipping down the road with a trunk full of priceless, new armory. Michael is going to be very pleased and Lauren can’t wait to see the look on his face. She flips down the sun visors and watches Normani and Lucas in the reflection. They’ve been engulfed in a hushed conversation ever since they climbed into the car and Lauren doesn’t know what to make of it.

“Lucas,” She catches his eyes and gives him a firm look. “You can’t pull shit like that, ever again, do you hear me?”

Lucas frowns. “I don’t know why we can’t just off them. We can find smugglers anywhere and they’re starting to become a liability.”

“That’s not for you to decide,” Lauren says. “If it ever comes to that, then I’ll promise you’ll be the one to do it. Until then, keep a cool head, okay?”

Lucas rolls his eyes and sarcastically obliges, “Sure mom.”

“Yeah, don’t be so fragile,” Dinah butts in. “You have any idea how many times we are sexualized and not taken seriously because we are women? Put on your big boys’ pants, baby.”

Lucas groans but says nothing, turning his attention back to Normani.

Lauren sighs and leans her head against the car window. She can’t wait to get home and call Camila and make sure she has gotten home safe from work. She smiles at the mere thought of hearing her voice, but this time, she hides it behind her curtain of hair. The last thing she needs is her friends interrogating her about it again.

 

“Wow.”

Lauren watches as Camila walks through her luxurious penthouse apartment, looking around with wide, stunned eyes. Her gaze seems to slide over every inch of the room, taking in every detail. When Lauren bought the place last year, she hired the best interior designer she could find to recreate the apartment in Lauren’s vision. She hasn’t spared any money on it. It has large floor to ceiling windows that overlooked Miami, high ceiling and large, expensive art works that adorned the walls. There’s a balcony with a stunning ocean view and a pool. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever been in a place this nice,” Camila admits and stops to admire one of the paintings. Lauren feels a faint sting of unease, because behind the paintings there’s a safe with guns, ammunition, money and fake documents.

“I don’t think I’ve ever had anyone who looks so nice here,” Lauren responds and enjoys the way a blush works its way up Camila’s neck, settling in her cheeks.

Camila approaches her, slinging her arms around Lauren’s neck. “You’re so smooth, aren’t you?”

“It comes natural with you,” Lauren says with a smirk as she leans in and offers her a kiss. Camila kisses her back and Lauren is dismayed when she pulls away too quickly.

“Do you want something to drink?” Lauren asks, remembering her manners.

“Can I have a tour of the house first?” Camila asks sweetly.

“Of course, baby.”

Lauren shows her around the apartment, showing her the guest room where her brother or friends crash when they’re over—it’s already filled with their items, there’s a pile of Dinah’s clothes in a corner, Normani’s lipstick on the nightstand and Lucas’ jacket hanging off the rack. The master bedroom is as spacious as the rest of the apartment and as Camila steps inside, Lauren can’t help but think about how badly she wants to throw her on the bed and ravage her.

“Who’s this?” Camila asks curiously as she picks up a painting from Lauren’s nightstand.

Lauren walks up next to her and peer down at the framed photograph of a young woman with a blinding smile and kind eyes.

“My mom,” Lauren says, longing tinging in her voice. Camila observes her closely.

“Is she…gone?” She asks carefully and Lauren is surprised she could read that off her face. She nods an affirmative and to her surprise, Camila engulfs her in a warm, tight hug.

“Aw, Lauren,” she coos and pulls back to look at her with sad eyes. “What happened?”

“She died giving birth to Lucas and I, so I never really knew her,” Lauren says regretfully, “But I still feel like I knew her through my father’s stories.”

Camila strokes a thumb down Lauren’s cheek and sighs. “I lost my mom too.”

Lauren is surprised by how easily offer up that piece of deeply personal information considering that she’s been guarded even though they’ve been growing closer over the past weeks. She cradles her hip and peer closely at her.

“I’m sorry, baby. Was it recent?”

“I was 16. She got sick. Really sick.” There’s grief in Camila’s beautiful eyes and Lauren is willing to move heaven and earth to remove that look; it doesn’t belong there. Camila only deserves happiness. 

“Is that why you…” Lauren trails off as she realizes how the question might be considered insensitive.

Camila smiles wryly at her. “Why I became a stripper? You must think I’m a cliché.”

“What? No, baby, that’s not what I meant—”

“That’s not the reason.” Camila sinks down on Lauren’s bed and Lauren takes a seat next to her. “Although I probably wouldn’t have become one if my mother was still alive. She would kill me for even considering it. She’s probably rolling in her gave right now.”

Camila takes a shuddery breath and Lauren strokes her hair in comfort.

“I actually got accepted to college and I was planning to major in Music and Psychology. But the tuition was insane and I tried so hard to get granted a scholarship but it was impossible. So I thought I’d take a gap year and earn the money—oh my God, I’m totally a cliché!” Camila exclaims mortified and hides her face behind her hands.

Lauren chuckles softly and kisses her temple. “That’s actually really admirable. You did what you had to do.”

Camila snorts and shakes her head, staring at the floor. “Yeah…”

“What’s wrong, baby?”

Camila swallows. “I’m just imagining my mother rolling in her grave. She would be so disappointed.”

“Hey,” Lauren cradles Camila’s chin and tilts her face towards her. “I can get you a job that pays better and that your mother would approve of. Please, let me help you.”

Camila searches her eyes for a moment before she looks away. “No. It’s alright. I’ve come this far and I’m almost there. I might as well see it through.”

Lauren had hoped she could whisk Camila way from that place. She hates that there are sleazy, old men leering at her every night. They don’t deserve looking at Camila.

“You’re stubbornly prideful, you know that?” She wraps her arms around Camila’s middle and squeezes affectionately.

“I know. It’s my best quality,” Camila teases and giggles, and Lauren is compelled to plant a kiss on every inch of her face until Camila is laughing and pushing her off.

They make their way back to the kitchen and Lauren mixes her, her favorite drink from the mini bar; thankful that she got it stocked after Dinah raided it last time. Camila fiddles with her vintage record player, impressed by Lauren’s collection of classics. She puts on a song and dances to the beat, not her usual sensual grinding but more like adorable flailing. She drags Lauren along, trying to make her move to the beat, but gives up once she discovers that Lauren has zero rhythm in her body. Meanwhile, all Lauren can think about is kissing her until neither of them can breathe.

Her resolve falters when Camila announces she wants to take a dip in the pool and strips down to her underwear like it’s nothing. Lauren wonders if she’s teasing her and if she’s aware what hungry beast she’s awakening. Lauren slips off her clothes and follows her into the water.

She immediately dives in for a kiss but Camila moves away with a laugh and splashes her with water.

She’s definitely teasing her.

Lauren manages to corner her against the corner and kiss her with passion, slipping her tongue into Camila’s mouth and tasting the drink she had earlier. Lauren slides her hands down Camila’s body, taking handfuls of her perfect ass and sipping the moans from Camila’s lips.

The kiss grows deeper, more filthy and wet and Lauren feels a burning desire between her legs and she grinds hungrily against Camila. Camila gasps and melts into it.

“Baby,” Lauren pants once their lips part. “Let me have you, please, let me have you, baby, _please_.”

She knows she sounds desperate but she’s wanted this since the day she laids eyes on Camila and it’s a wonder she lasted this long to begin with. She thinks if she can’t have her way with her this minute, she might just burn up and die.

Camila shivers, her breath thick and warm against Lauren’s face. She looks into Lauren’s eyes, her own blacker than ebony and Lauren can see the desire mirrored there.

So, Camila lets Lauren have her.

And Lauren has her.

Once in the lukewarm pool, fingers pushing in and out of her tight pussy until Camila is crying with pleasure against Lauren’s mouth. And Lauren kisses her lips until they’re red and puffy. She drinks every sound Camila makes like it’s the finest of wines. 

She moves her to the bedroom and spreads her across the bed, marveling at how beautiful she is in her naked vulnerability, the way her petite chest rises and falls rapidly, little nipples rosy and rock hard pointing towards the ceiling. This time Lauren makes Camila come with her mouth between her legs and her tongue dragging in and out of her until she’s dripping with her down her chin. She tastes like everything Lauren wants in her life.

Camila gets on her knees for Lauren in the kitchen, working her jaw with practiced ease, gazing up at Lauren through matted lashes, looking like the personification of sin. Lauren doesn’t remember the last time she came that hard, her vision blown white and body trembling with the force of it.

They roll around in Lauren’s bed, lazy, languid kisses and slow, tantalizing touches. Lauren holds Camila like she’s the most valuable thing in the world, and Camila looks at her with dewy soft eyes and mutters in a rough, raspy voice “I really like you”. Lauren wonders what _’I love you_ ” might sound in her voice.

They fall asleep cuddling together, heartbeat in synch and Lauren knows that when morning comes, she’ll wake Camila up with gentle kisses and a plate of breakfast.

A week or so later, Lauren is picking Camila up for a date. She’s planning on taking her to the theater to watch her favorite show and she pulls up next to her apartment complex. She makes sure to lock her car considering the shady neighborhood, then makes her way up the stairs to Camila’s flat. She’s been here a few times before—the last time she fucked her with a dildo in her bed—and she quite likes it even though it isn’t as big as her own; it’s got a cute and charming atmosphere. A lot like Camila.

She’s halfway up the stairs when she hears a scream. Ice rushes through her veins and her body tenses and tightens.

It’s Camila’s scream.

Lauren moves like a hurricane up the remaining of the stairs. Camila’s door is cracked wide open and Lauren flies through it, her heart beating with terror at the prospect of someone harming Camila.

She finds them in the living room.

There are two strange men, both big, burly and tattooed; one of them has Camila in a tight grip while said girl is cowering in fear.

Lauren snaps and flies into a rage.

She grabs the guy holding Camila and tears him off her. The men are startled at her presence and Camila crumbles to the floor, gasping her name.

“Who the fuck are you, you bitch—“ The man chokes on his words when Lauren punches him in the throat and he wheezes at the sudden lack of air. He doesn’t get a chance to recover before Lauren punches him repeatedly in the face and sends him tumbling to the floor with a powerful knee in the gut.

“What the fuck!” The other exclaim and lunges at Lauren. She dodges with ease, sweeping his legs from underneath him.

When the two of them look up, Lauren is standing over them, pointing a gun at them with cold murder in her eyes.

Naked fear washes over the men’s faces and they scramble away, raising their hands in defense.

“Whoa! Whoa! No!”

“Please don’t.”

Lauren is two breaths away from pulling the trigger when Camila yells her name, and at once, Lauren remembers that she has an audience that she cares for deeply. Camila is next to her the following second, eyes wide with uncertainty and fear, staring at the gun in Lauren’s hand.

“Lauren,” she whispers, “Please, don’t.”

Lauren swallows thickly, staring at the men on the floor, taking in their faces, saving it in her head for later.

“The next time I see you, I will fucking kill you,” She sneers, eyes flashing dangerously. The men scramble to their feet and run away like the cowards they are. It’s alright, Lauren already knows she’s going to hunt them down and put bullets in them.

She tucks the gun back in her jeans and turns to Camila. It takes everything in her not to chase the men down when she sees the bruise on Camila’s cheekbone, an ugly purple against her pretty skin.

“Lauren,” Camila says, voice small. “Why…why do you have gun? And how did you learn to do that?”

“That doesn’t matter right now. Tell me who they were? Did you know them? What did they want?” Lauren frantically scans Camila for further hurts and relief washes over her as she finds nothing.

“Um, they…uh…one was a guy I briefly dated.” Tears pop into Camila’s eyes. “I didn’t really click with him so I stopped seeing him, but he didn’t share the same opinion. He kept calling and texting and stalking me. He showed up at my door earlier with that other man and was really aggressive telling me that he owned me and nobody else could have me and I…I think…I think he was trying to force his way with me.”

Camila breaks down, fat tear drops rolling down her flushed cheeks, and in that moment, Lauren decides that they don’t deserve a quick death. No, she’s going to make them regret the day they were born. She pulls Camila’s trembling body into hers and whispers soothing words in her ear.

“God, I’m so sorry, baby, I’m sorry. That fucking bastard. I should’ve killed him.”

“No,” Camila gasp in between sobs, “You would’ve gone to jail and I can’t have that. I can’t lose you.”

“Oh, baby,” Lauren kisses her forehead and rocks her. “You won’t. I’m never going to let anyone hurt you ever again. I promise.”

Once she has calmed Camila down, Lauren helps her pack a small bag and takes her back to her own apartment. Camila keeps asking her about the gun and Lauren makes light of it and tells her that she bought it to defend herself and learned to fight by taking some defense classes. It appears Camila is distraught enough to accept the explanation. 

 

There’s little in this world Lauren enjoys less than family parties, but because her father is the host, she’s obligated to make an appearance. She has tried to get out of it many times in the past, but her father won’t allow her absence.

Papá J is notorious for throwing the best parties in all of Miami and this one isn’t any exception; he’s made sure to provide a never-ending stream of the best booze, Cuban cigars and food.

The large living room in Papá J’s mansion crawls with some of the biggest power players in the underworld and underneath the laughters, pleasantries and festivities bubbles the suspicion and tension, every single person in that room is packing a gun or two. It’s unusual that parties like these turns into a war scene, but they all live by the same motto.

 _Safe rather than sorry_.

The entirety of their Latino Mob Family is present with a handful of their business associates, including the Lipovsky Twins and of course, a special appearance by the Aswads. The Aswads family comes from old money, their ancestors profited from the slavery in the Arabian Peninsula a couple of centuries ago, and Lauren has heard whispers that the Aswad family still dabbled in human trafficking when they saw it fit—which disgusts her to no small degree.

The head of the family is Aisha Aswad, a _woman_ , which Lauren can’t help but think is admirable, considering the strict traditional roles strongly rooted in their culture. Lauren has heard all the stories of how Aisha fought for the power after her husband died, refusing to fall back and marry her late husband’s brother as was expected of her. Her story is probably one of Lauren’s favorites, because there’s nothing better than a woman being a boss and kicking ass. Aisha Aswad is beautiful as well, tall, slim, hair the color of the midnight sky and a regal posture that demands respect. 

Lauren loves that woman. Her _children_ on the other hand.

There’s three of them, and Lauren supposes the youngest is alright. Naseem is 16 years old with a head of thick, black curls and wide, green eyes. He doesn’t say much and keeps to himself. Then there’s Layla and she’s Lauren’s age and insufferable. Her favorite hobbies appear to be, one; irritating Lauren and two; going out of her way to surpass Lauren, refusing to accept that it won’t ever happen. 

And then there Adam.

Adam is 27 years old and looks like he walked out of a magazine with his stunningly good looks. However, his arrogance and pride ruins his pleasant exteriors and Lauren still regrets hooking up with him continuously for several months a couple of years ago. It’s a mystery to Lauren how he can have a powerful mother like Aisha and still think that women are his property and should fall on their knees and open their mouths for him without question. 

Lauren hasn’t been in the mood for facing them and had used the first half of the party hiding around in the house until her father sent for her and she almost had to be physically dragged by Lucas. She walks around, greeting and making small talk with the people she knows, expertly avoiding the Aswads.

Her luck runs out fast when her father calls her over, standing with Aisha and Adam.

“Lauren! Come over, _mi querida_!”

Lauren shoots Lucas a helpless look across the room and he offers an amused smile, that little fuck. She plasters on a smile and walks across the room, masking her annoyance at the way Adam boldly slides his gaze over her body.

“Papá,” she kisses her father’s cheek in greeting, then turns to the Aswads. “Aisha. Adam. I’m so happy you’ve made it tonight.”

Aisha steps forward and pulls her into an embrace of expensive, sultry perfume, her hair feels softer than butterfly wings against Lauren’s skin.

“ _Habibti_ , you’ve grown and you’re even more beautiful than I remember! You light up the room and those eyes!”

“Oh stop it. You stole the thunder the second you arrived,” Lauren laughs and waves off the compliments. She’s flattered, of course, but she would much rather Aisha praised her intelligence rather than her appearance.

“Lauren,” Adam greets and steps forward, taking her hand and kissing the back of it. “My mother speaks the truth. You’re a sight for sore eyes.”

Lauren smiles stiffens. “Thank you, Adam.”

Michael affectionately put a hand on the small of her back. “She’s got it all from her mother. God was kind enough not to pass them my wide face!” he laughs boisterously, drawing genuine laughter from his audience as well. Lauren rolls her eyes and gently disagrees with him.

“ _Mi amor_ , Adam is staying in the city for a few days to conduct business,” Papá J tells her, “I want you to help him with anything he might need.”

Lauren tenses and glances at Adam and his cocky smirk. 

“Oh, I’m sure Lucas could do a much better job than me, Papá.” 

Michael gives her a look. They both know damn well that Lauren is more efficient than Lucas, but she has a feeling that isn’t the reason she is getting stuck with this unpleasant job.

“I need Lucas for something else.”

“I can only imagine what power team the two of you will be,” Aisha pipes in and gives Lauren a suggestive look. “I trust Adam with everything, but I’m even more assured, knowing that you’ll be there with him.”

Lauren’s jaw clenches as realization drips down her spine. 

“Excuse me,” she mutters and leaves without another word. She grabs a glass of liquor and steps outside, letting the sweet breeze soothe her flushed skin.

It doesn’t take long for her father to join her.

He walks up next to her on the veranda and stares her down. Lauren doesn’t dare to meet his eyes and stares straight ahead, gulping.

“What happened back there, Lauren?” Michael sounds anything but amused. “I’ve raised you better than that. Explain to me why you would embarrass me like that.”

She glances at him and winces at the deeply disappointed frown directed at her.

She wets her chapped lips. “I’m sorry, Papá,” she mutters. “I just…I needed air.”

Her father doesn’t buy it for a minute. He studies her with that calculating, piercing gaze that causes Lauren to fear that he might see right through her, see that she’s everything he resents.

“You used to be close with Adam. What happened?” Michael demands to know. 

Lauren could lie and downplay it but it would only anger her father, so she opts for the truth.

“He’s a dick—pardon the language, Papá—but it’s _true_. He’s so full of himself and it’s eventually going to be the end of him.”

Michael rises a brow. “Is that so?” He nods thoughtfully. “I think that’s why he needs a strong, capable and intelligent woman like you to ground him.”

Lauren’s heart drops through her toes and she turns to face Michael wide-eyed. “You can’t be serious.” Her father’s face shows no indication of joking and she gapes at him. “You want me to _marry_ Adam Aswad?”

“It would be an excellent way to strengthen our alliance with the Aswad family.” He says. “And Mi Amor, I’m not getting any younger and in our world, God knows if I’ll live to old age and I want grandchildren before I’m lowered into my grave.”

For a moment, Lauren is so disappointed that she’s speechless. She would’ve thought her own father knew her better by now, knew that she would never marry for a political alliance, she’d thought her father saw her as more than a broodmare he could marry off for personal gain.

“I hope you’ve had this talk with Lucas,” she says eventually, feeling a bit bad for throwing her brother under the bus. “After all, it’s _his_ children that most people will see as your successor.”

“I won’t, mi amor, you and your brother are equals to me and so will your children be. I’ve spoken to Lucas. The both of you need to get married soon. You’re 25. Do you know how old I was when I married your mother? I was 20, she was 19!”

Lauren almost wants to tell him that she’s more likely to marry the beautiful, bright girl waiting for her at home than she is marrying Adam Aswad. She wants to tell him that she met a girl named Camila Cabello and she’s the best thing that ever happened to her— _you’d love her, Papá! Just give her a chance, please?_ — she imagines the outrage on his face, and she wonders if his love for her would die in fiery flames never to be seen or heard of again.

She doesn’t tell him. Of course she doesn’t. She says nothing.

“Promise me you’ll give him a chance? He’s a fine, young gentleman and I’m sure he could make you very happy.” He reaches out and squeezes her arm gently, then he leaves her.

Lauren is drowning in despair and the futility of her predicament when Lucas joins her. Her twin brother gets one look at her face and asks,

“What’s wrong?”

Lauren barks a humorless laugh. “Papá wants me to marry Adam Aswad.”

Lucas eyes widen in shock. 

“Oh shit,” he mutters and draws closer to Lauren, “Fuck, Laur, I’m sorry, that’s really, fucking shitty. I hate that guy. No way he’s going to become family.”

Lauren’s throat feels raw and she doesn’t remember the last time she wanted to cry this bad.

“He’s really pushing it. He wants me to marry soon, because apparently my eggs are shriveling up as we speak,” she snorts and shakes her head. “I don’t know what to do, Luke…I can never give him what he wants and it’s killing me.”

Lucas pulls her close and Lauren leans in to him, finding comforting in his taller frame and familiar scent. He strokes her hair and they remain silent for a few moments.

“Yeah…he wouldn’t be happy with that pretty, little stripper girl, huh?”

He throws it out so casually that it takes a second for his words to sink in and once they do, Lauren reels back and stares at him in shock.

He shrugs and steals the glass of untouched alcohol out of her hands, taking a sip. “When have you ever been able to keep a secret from me?”

“How long have you known?” She asks, breathless.

“For a while,” Lucas admits, “I’ve just been waiting for you to tell me. I’m super disappointed that you haven’t.” He pouts and frowns. “I thought we shared a super special twin bond?”

“I’m sorry. I was going to tell you, I swear. I just…I didn’t how.”

“There was no reason to hide it from me. You know I got you back. I’ve already helped you bury several bodies, haven’t I?” He smirks and she chuckles.

“Yeah. I should’ve told you sooner. I know.”

“So, what’s the deal? Are you just fucking around with her or do you have actual feelings for her?”

Lauren is a bit skitterish at being confronted so head-on, when she hasn’t worked through her feelings yet. But she knows that she’s safest with her brother and she wants to show him that she trusts him with her life.

“Um, yeah….she’s…she’s really special to me,” Lauren says. “I know you think she’s just a stripper, but she’s so much more than that. I can’t explain it, but I feel like I would be ready to lay my life down for her.”

“Wow.” Lucas looks stunned. “That’s heavy, Laur. I honestly just thought you were messing around. So…this is long term?”

Lauren bites down her bottom lip and nods.

“Okay. Papá is definitely not going to be happy about that.”

“He’ll hate me, won’t he?”

Lucas shakes his head. “No, dumbass. He loves you more than his own life. He will be strongly against it. He will probably throw a mighty fit, but by the end of the day, he will always love you. No matter what. Don’t forget that.”

Lauren’s heart swells with hope. “Do you really think that?”

Lucas smile and flickers her nose playfully. “I know that. Besides, I will give him a whole football team of kids, so he won’t want a thing from you.”

Lauren laughs. “Oh yeah?” She nudges him. “With Mani?”

She’s intrigued by the slight blush sprinkling on his cheeks. “When were _you_ going to tell me _that_?”

“I wasn’t hiding it. You were just too busy with your stripper to care about anything else.”

“Camila,” Lauren corrects. “Her name is Camila. So you’re telling me you found a way to trick Mani to be with your sorry ass?”

“Oh shut up,” Lucas shoves her. “We aren’t…together _together_? I guess?”

“What? What does that mean?”

Lucas sighs heavily. “I wish I knew. One minute she’s _my girl_ and the next she’s colder than Antarctica. She’s driving me insane.”

“And you absolutely love it,” Lauren accuses with a smirk. “Whatever the two of you are doing, please don’t let it get messy. I don’t want to be caught in the middle of it.”

Lucas rolls his eyes. “Whatever.”

Lauren smiles softly and grabs his ear, pulling playfully at it. “Hey? I’m happy for you, you moron.”

Lucas snorts.

“Love you too sis.”

 

Lauren returns to her apartment later that same night and nearly all her worries evaporate once she finds Camila in the living room, sprawled out on the couch, fast asleep. She must’ve fallen asleep waiting for her even though Lauren told her she would be late and the thought warms her heart and makes her forget the earlier unpleasantries.

It’s been two weeks since the incident in Camila’s apartment and she has been staying with Lauren ever since. They haven’t spoken about her officially moving in, but Lauren has regularly been picking up her things from her apartment and Camila’s presence fits so wonderfully in Lauren’s home.

Lauren shrugs off her jacket and throws her keys on the table. She crouches down next to Camila’s unconscious body and studies her face. She looks so peaceful and innocent like this, it’s nearly hard to imagine the vixen she turns into on stage.

Lauren traces her face with her finger and Camila stirs awake. She blinks at her with her large, doe eyes and a gentle smile graces her features.

“Hey baby,” Lauren whispers and dips down to kiss her plush lips. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“It’s alright.” She sits up and rubs the sleep out of her eyes. She cuddles into Lauren and kisses her cheek. “How was the party?”

Lauren grimaces. “Worse than I thought it would be.”

“Why? What happened?” Camila asks, looking concerned.

Lauren hesitates for a moment, but then opts to tell the truth. “Um. My dad wants me to marry the son of one of his business associates. Apparently he’s impatient for grandchildren.”

Camila blinks wide-eyed. “Oh…he doesn’t…he doesn’t know about me?”

Lauren looks at Camila and she doesn’t know if it’s hurt or disappointment she sees in her eyes. She strokes her cheek lovingly.

“I’m afraid my father would never approve,” she admits sadly, “but that will never change how I feel about you.”

Camila covers Lauren’s hand with her own and brings it to her mouth, kissing her palm. She peers at Lauren for a moment.

“I know how much your father means to you,” she says, “I can see it in your eyes when you speak about him. His approval means the world to you, doesn’t it?”

Lauren swallows and lowers her gaze. “Yes.”

“I’m sorry.” Camila pushes closer, draping her arms around Lauren’s neck, nuzzling her face. “A parent should accept their child the way they are, and you’re incredible Lauren. Just the way you are.”

Lauren smiles and tilts her face, kissing Camila’s forehead. “Thank you, baby.”

She tries to absorb Camila’s words and Lucas assurances, but still, the thought of losing her father terrifies her. She has always been the biggest daddy’s girl and she would move mountains and swim through oceans if he asked her to.

“Hey, hey,” Camila brings her back before she can really dive off into a spiral of worried thoughts. “Let me cheer you up, okay?”

Lauren is about to ask how she’s planning on doing that but her words are interrupted by Camila’s warm mouth against hers and alright, this isn’t half-bad—who she’s kidding, it’s amazing. She sighs contently against Camila’s lips and easily parts them to deepen the kiss. Camila crawls into her lap and the kiss swiftly goes from comforting and sweet to passionate and dirty.

Suddenly the heat of Camila’s body is gone and Lauren groans at the loss. Camila laughs and catches her hand, pulling her along to the bedroom. She pushes Lauren down on the bed and crawls on top of her.

Lauren smiles up at her, her eyes fluttering closed when Camila lowers her lips onto hers. Camila takes charge of the kiss, and Lauren happily lets her.

“Do you have toys?” Camila asks against Lauren’s mouth.

“Oh, yeah. Um, in my closet, in a box on the top shelf.”

Camila bounds off to fetch the box and her eyes widen at the content. 

“Lauren! You dirty, _dirty_ , girl,” she says with a laugh as she lifts a string of anal beads, and Lauren feels her cheeks burn. “Oh my God, how many vibrators do you have?”

Lauren hides her face behind her hand, groaning. “Dinah gifts me a bunch every birthday. I swear I threw out even more than what’s in that box.”

Camila giggles. “I like this one. This one is so pretty!”

Lauren peeks out behind the gaps of her fingers and sees Camila holding a glittery, baby pink vibrator. She crawls back on the bed and spreads her legs, slipping in between them.

She gives Lauren a dirty grin. “We’re going to have some fun with this one.”

Lauren shivers in anticipation. “Fuck yeah.”

Lauren always likes to be in control, even when she’s with men, but tonight is the first time she gives all the reigns to Camila, trusting her wholeheartedly. 

And it’s the best decision she’s ever made. 

Camila mouths at her chest, dragging her tongue over her sensitive, hard nipples while she rubs the vibrator against her clit. It makes Lauren shudder and tremble in pleasure, pliant and willing to the arousal taking over her body. Sweat drips down her body and she feels like she might explode with the heat radiating off her body. 

When Camila dips the vibrator into her, Lauren is so wet that it slides in with ease.

“Do you like that, baby?” Camila breathes against her ear, “You want me to fuck your tight, little pussy?”

Lauren never thought in a million years that Camila could be this dominating and it’s the first time she sees glimpses of Karla outside of the strip club. She moans loudly and unabashed, eagerly nodding her head.

“Yes, _please_.”

Camila fucks the dildo in and out of her in a hard, fast and unrelenting pace until Lauren’s words turns into a string of incoherent babbles. She loves the feeling of being stretched wide open and Camila teasingly fondling her clit. Camila is kissing a trail up her neck until she’s nibbling her ear and pouring absolute filth into them.

Lauren throws her arms around Camila and kisses her wantonly. “Fuck, _fuck_ \--I love you!” She exclaims and even though it’s said in the highs of passion, she doesn’t mean it any less.

She only realizes the gravity of her words when Camila abruptly stops her motions and stares down at her with a shocked expression.

Lauren pants heavily and stares back at her, apprehensive. She probably should laugh it off but she can’t find it in herself to do so. 

To her relief, Camila’s face melts into the purest expression and she strokes down Lauren’s cheek.

“I love you too, Lauren.”

Lauren’s heart explodes into a million colors, her heart soaring to the atmosphere and she happily accepts Camila’s passionate kisses.

She thinks this is _it_.

She’s found what he’s always been looking for.

Later, when they are lying together in the afterglow of their love-making, Lauren tenderly asks Camila if she will consider stopping working at the strip club.

“I hate that all these men are looking at you and touching you,” she whispers, carding her fingers through Camila’s hair. “I know that want to be independent, but please let me take care of you, baby. Let me put you through college.”

Camila sighs softly and cuddles closer to Lauren. “…I’ll think about it.”

Lauren nods. It’s more than enough for now.

 

The night is illuminated by the full moon bouncing off the water, and the ocean breeze is cool as it dances through Lauren’s hair. She’s at the dock along with Lucas, Normani, a handful of their men and two of the Russians. They’re awaiting a big shipment of drugs and guns that is due arriving in about— _Lauren checks her watch_ —half an hour.

 

Lauren is expecting everything to run smoothly so she can get home to Camila at a reasonable hour. The girl has started showing suspicion at Lauren’s odd working hours, and the only reason she hasn’t sniffed anything out yet is because she, herself, work late at the strip club.

She glances at Normani who’s off to one side, texting on her phone. Lucas is standing a few feet away from her, shooting her unreadable looks every now and then. It’s hard to miss the tension between them, and Lauren thinks that a disagreement has occurred between them. They haven’t exchanged a word all day catching Lauren in their atmosphere of awkwardness much to her chagrin.

“I can see something coming,” One of the Russians say as he lowers his cigarettes and squints into the dark.

Lauren stares for a couple of minutes until she sees the unmistakable shape of the ship approaching. She throws a quick look at her watch and is satisfied that it’s arriving on time, even a little early.

“Good.” Lauren fishes out her packet of cigarettes and searches for her lighter. She realizes she must’ve forgotten it in another jacket, so she asks the Russian if he can light it for her.

“Sure,” he grunts and steps closer. He flickers on his lighter and the little flame comes alive, but before Lauren can use it, a sharp foreboding sound tears through the air, the flame dies and the Russian goes down with an anguished cry, warm wetness splattering across Lauren’s face. 

It takes her a split-second to realize what’s happening and within the next second she’s shouting for everyone to get down just moments before bullets rain over them.

One of the bullets tears a hole through her leather jacket, grazing her skin and cutting open a wound, causing her to snarl in pain. She finds cover behind one of the large cargo containers and draws her gun. Her blood runs cold at the sound of her brother’s angered cry and she locates him a few containers down, crouched over a clearly wounded Normani. Lauren can’t tell how bad it is and she doesn’t have time to.

“Fuck.” She says under her breath and peeks around the corner. She spots at least five men dressed in head to toe black shooting at her men and she rolls out from her cover, gracefully getting to her feet and nails one of them with one lethally precise shot.

She ducks behind a block of concrete, gritting her teeth as bullets whizzes past her head. Adrenaline surges through her veins as her heart drums up a dangerous beat and every single muscle in her body tight and ready to snap into action. She jumps up from her hiding place and fires a round, but her target dodges. He aims at her and Lauren’s blood rushes through her ear as she realizes that she has no time to take cover. A shot rings out, a bullet flies passed her and the gunman drops to the ground.

Lauren glances over her shoulder and quickly nods her gratitude to the Latino that saved her.

“Look out!” He shouts at her. 

She whirls around and her heads spin and she tastes coppery blood when she receives a blow to the jaw. She almost falls to the floor but regains her balance last second, lashing out and twisting the gun out of her assailant’s hand. A second before she fires a shot at his head, he grabs her wrist and jerks her forward, the bullet missing his brain by inches.

He headbutts her and the gun slips out her hands, clattering to the concrete floor. The man dives for it but Lauren manages to kick it out of his reach before he can grab it. He snarls at her and lunges towards her. He’s bigger and physically stronger than her, but he’s heavy and slow on his feet whereas Lauren is fast and agile. She dodges his punches and kicks him to the ground. Before he can regain composure, Lauren already has the gun pointing at his head.

“Bye, bitch.” She pulls the trigger and the bullets splatters his brain and blood everywhere. She catches one of them escaping behind a row of containers and Lauren is about to chase after him, hopeful to take him alive so she can discover who they are. 

However, she halts upon noticing a lone figure standing atop a tower of cargo containers.

It’s a young man. He’s tall and thin wearing an oversized denim jacket and ripped, skinny jeans. His hair is blonde and his eyes are cold as they clash with Lauren’s. 

Lauren’s stares at him and he stares right back.

His lips pull up in a mocking smirk and he raises his hand above his head, making a gesture of devil horns. It hits Lauren with an apprehensive feeling and she lifts her gun, aiming at him. Before she can take the shot, the sound of police sirens rings through the air.

“ _Fuck._ ”

She turns her head briefly in the general direction of the sounds and when she looks back, the man is gone. Her jaw clenches as she realizes that they’re going to lose their shipment. There’s no time to worry about that.

“We have to go. _Now_!”

She runs back to Lucas and Normani and drops to her knees next to them. Lucas is pressing a blood-soaked cloth against her wounded leg and Lauren is alarmed by how pale Normani is.

“How bad is it?” Lauren asks as she notices the big pool of blood only getting bigger.

“She’s pregnant!” Lucas cries out in distress and catches Lauren by surprised. She stares at him, then her with a baffled expression.

“Wait— _what_!?”

“Help me get her to the car! She’s already lost a lot of my blood. _Oh my God_.” Lucas is freaking out and Lauren assists him in helping Normani up, the poor girl whimpering. “It’s okay, baby. Everything is going to be alright. I promise.”

“We can’t go to a hospital,” Normani gasps, beads of sweat glistering along her hairline.

“She’s right,” Lauren says, heart thudding as the police sirens come closer. “They’ll look for us there. We’ll take her to Keana. She’s closer too.”

Keana Issartel is a close friend and licensed doctor. She has helped their family out on numerous occasions when they needed medical care without drawing attention from the feds, and right now, they couldn’t afford to have them sniffing around.

Her and Lucas help Normani into the car and Lucas crawls into the backseat with her while Lauren hops into the driver’s seat, the engine roaring to life as she speeds into the opposite direction of the incoming police.

They startle Keana awake and she opens the door for them dressed in a night robe. She watches with wide-eyed shock as they half-carry a half-conscious Normani inside and onto her expensive couch, the blood dripping down the leather.

“Guys. What the _fuck_. What happened!?”

“Keana. We need your help. Please, hurry, Normani is pregnant and she’s lost a lot of blood,” Lucas begs, panic soaks his voice as he clutches Normani’s hand, brushing her hair out of her damp, fevered face.

Keana springs into action and orders Lauren and Lucas around to fetch her the material she needs. Keana works focused the next couple of hours, setting up blood, cleaning out the wound and stopping the bleeding and finally, stitching the wound closed. 

While this is all happening, she shoots off a quick text to Camila, telling her that she’s going to be late and not wait up for her. 

**Is everything alright?**. Camila texts back and Lauren sighs heavily, unable to find the energy to conjure up a lie at the moment. Her attention is quickly claimed by Keana as she announces that Normani and the baby are going to be alright.

Keana pulls off her bloodied gloves as she speaks, “I strongly urge that we take her to the hospital tomorrow and run the necessary test to make sure that everything is alright with the baby. I’ll make sure it’s off records, so you won’t have to worry about that.”

“Oh, thank God.” Lucas makes a cross against his chest, looks towards the sky then drops a kiss on Normani’s sleeping face. “I’m sorry, baby. I’ll find who did this to you and I’m going to make them pay.”

“Thank you, Keana,” Lauren says. “I don’t know what we would do without you.”

“No worries. I love being awoken from my beauty slumber with a near heart attack,” She jokes and starts cleaning up. She looks towards Lauren and frowns. “You’re hurt.”

Lauren’s eyes drop to where Keana’s concerned gaze is focused and it’s first upon seeing the slash on her upper arm that she remembers it’s there. The bleeding has stopped long ago and dried into ugly, black red crust.

Lucas looks up, “What, are you alright, sis?”

“It’s nothing. It’s just a little cut.” Lauren shrugs it off unwilling to cause her brother more worry than necessary.

“Don’t be an idiot,” Keana admonishes, “It’ll get infected. Let me fix you up.”

Lauren supposes there’s truth in that, so she nods and slides off her leather jacket, taking a seat by the table. Keana sinks into the chair next to her with her little first aid kit.

Lauren hisses when she starts cleaning the wound with antiseptic and Keana smiles. “Don’t be a baby.”

Lauren scoffs but smiles as well.

“So, what happened?” Keana asks.

“We were awaiting a shipment, but we got attacked.” Lauren watches as Keana removes the dried blood, revealing that the cut was bigger than Lauren had thought. 

Keana glances up at her with wide, surprised eyes. “Who could’ve attacked you? Last I remember, you crushed the competition long ago and pretty much owned this city.”

“Yeah, same here,” Lauren mutters with a troubled expression. Now that all the adrenaline has fizzled out and they are all safe, the magnitude of all the products they’ve lost hits her. Her father isn’t going to be happy.

As if summoned by her thoughts, Lauren’s phone goes off the next second, and she mutters a soft _’fuck’_ under her breath upon seeing her father’s name flashing across the screen.

 

Her father isn’t just angry—he’s _livid_.

They didn’t only lose millions worth of products, all of which is now in police custody, but they lost one of their good men as well. The Russians are already blaming them—Lauren specifically—for the loss of their man and their share of the product. 

“ _Qué chingados_!!” Lauren winces as her father throws a bottle of vodka on the floor, the glass shattering upon impact. “How could this happen, Lauren! _How_!?”

“We got ambushed, Papá,” Lauren responds, a slight tremor in her voice. “And the cops were coming so we had to leave.”

Michael punches the table, the tips of his ears bright red. “We’re going to have the feds up our ass cracks now. Fucking hell!” He takes a deep breath and futilely attempts to calm down. “Did you see their faces? Anything that can help us find those _hijos de puta!_ ”

Lauren’s mind flashes back to the guy with the devil horns. “Yes. There was this guy who was just watching everything from the top of a container. A white male. Mid to late twenties. He made this gesture.” She imitates the gesture and Michael’s eyes flashes.

He exchanges looks with his men and one of them shakes his head in disbelief. “That’s impossible. Must be an imposter.”

Michael looks back at Lauren, his forehead folding in deep frowns. “You’re absolutely sure that is what you saw?”

Lauren studies him. “Do you know them?”

“ _Cojeme_ ,” Michael hisses and pours himself a drink, taking a long swig. “Back in the 90s, a sorry excuse of white trash gang moved into our territory. They called themselves _The Devil’s Hand_ ; they were barbaric, would perform satanic rituals. A bunch of _El-Diablo_ worshippers who strayed from God’s light.”

“But it can’t be them, Jefé,” Santiago speaks up from the back. “We eradicated every single last of them decades ago.”

Michael nods. “Whoever it is, I want them brought to me.” He looks at Lauren, eyes steely cold. “I don’t care what you have to do, Lauren. You’re going to fix this. Find them and bring them to me.”

“Yes, Papá.” Lauren nods and departs from the room.

Lauren finally makes it home in the early hours of the morning, exhausted beyond belief. She shuffles to the bedroom, the first smile of the night making its way to her face as she sees Camila sound asleep, hogging all the blankets.

She strips down to her underwear and crawls onto the bed. She gently turns Camila on her side, so she can spoon up next to her as she wraps her arms around Camila’s tiny waist, burying her face in her hair and finding comfort in her familiar scent.

Camila stirs in her sleep, twisting around and blinking sleepily at Lauren. She smiles and wordlessly presses a kiss into Lauren’s mouth before she drops her head on Lauren’s chest, throwing her leg over her thighs. Her breath evens out within seconds and Lauren smiles, kissing the top of her hair.

Despite the troubling events of earlier, she manages to find peaceful sleep in Camila’s embrace.

Lauren wakes up alone. She slips on a robe and goes looking for Camila. She finds her in the kitchen, making breakfast by the stove, wearing nothing but underwear, softly singing in Spanish.

Lauren leans against the doorframe and just watches her for a few minutes with the fondest smile. She’s never heard Camila sing before and she’s surprised by how beautiful her voice is, her tone unique and pleasant. 

Lauren moves forward and hugs her tightly from behind. Camila startles and turns her head.

“You scared me!” She laughs. 

“Sorry, baby,” Lauren says and kisses her. “What are you making?”

“Pancakes, because that’s the only thing I can make,” Camila says with an endearing giggle and adds another pancake to the stack.

“They look delicious,” Lauren says and strokes her hand down Camila’s flat tummy. “But I’ve got more of an appetite for you.”

She dips her hand under Camila’s underwear without warning, cupping her pussy and probing at her hole. Camila bucks in her arms with a little surprised gasp, dropping the spatula to the floor.

“Lauren!” Camila squeaks. “What are you— _ahh_!”

Lauren gently bites down on her neck, feeling how fast she gets wet when she rubs her pussy. “Yes, baby?”

Camila grabs the counter, back arching into it as Lauren dips a finger inside of her. “I have to finish this!” There’s still a half full bowl of uncooked pancakes left, but Lauren isn’t planning on stopping.

“Then finish it, babe,” she teases and drops to her knees and shuffles around until she’s kneeling between Camila and the counter. She leans in and mouths at Camila’s closed cunt, reveling in Camila’s hopeless moan.

“I-I can’t when you’re doing that!” Camila whines.

“Yes you can. I believe in you,” Lauren says with a breathy chuckle. She pulls Camila’s underwear to the side, mouth watering at the sight of her tight, pink pussy and the slick already gathered there. She dives in, dragging her tongue over Camila in a long, throughout lick and a drawn-out moan tumbles from Camila’s mouth.

“If the kitchen burns down, then it’s your fault,” Camila pants as she starts pouring the batter on the frying pan.

Lauren smirks, muttering _’good girl_ against her wetness.

Lauren goes to town, grabbing Camila’s ample ass to keep her still as she thrusts her tongue inside of her, gathering all that sweet juice, addicted the taste and smell of it.

She’s entertained by Camila’s honest attempt at making the pancakes in between moaning, bucking and grabbing Lauren’s hair. 

“Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God,” Camila chants when Lauren drags her tongue over her clit in hard, fast circular motion while driving her fingers in an out of her. Her thighs tremble and she abandons the breakfast in favor of burying her fingers in Lauren’s hair, grinding against her mouth.

Lauren uses her free hand to fondle Camila’s ass, slowly but purposefully sliding between her ass cheeks and stroking her thumb over Camila’s puckered hole.

Camila jumps startled, gasping her name. Lauren wonders if she would let her play with her ass and a couple of toys one day; perhaps she’d be into a little spanking. Lauren would’ve to investigate that further someday soon.

When Camila comes she yells and pulls so hard in Lauren’s hair that it’s nearly as painful as it is arousing. Lauren doesn’t let a drop escape her and licks Camila clean. She pulls back and looks up at Camila’s dazed expression.

“Oh fuck!” Camila exclaims and the smell of burnt food reaches Lauren’s nose.

She laughs as she gets to her feet and watches Camila remove the frying pan from the heat.

“That’s not funny!” Camila complains and playfully whacks Lauren across the arm.

Lauren winces painfully as Camila hits her gun wound and she tries to hide it, but it’s too late.

“I’m sorry! Did I hurt you?” Camila asks and approaches her but Lauren backs away, shaking her head.

“No. No. I’m fine.”

Camila appears unconvinced. “Lauren? Let me see.” She strides forward and pulls down Lauren’s robe, gasping upon seeing the bandage and the blood seeping through it. “Lauren! What happened?”

“It’s nothing,” Lauren says quickly and pulls up her robe, “Just an accident with scissors at work.”

Camila frowns and she doesn’t say anything for several seconds, making Lauren nervous. 

“Lauren…what’s really going on?”

“What do you mean?” Lauren questions even though she knows exactly what Camila means. Honestly, she’d been waiting for that question, she’s even surprised Camila hasn’t questioned her sooner. And she was a damn fool for thinking she could keep Camila in the dark forever.

Camila crosses her arms and stares at Lauren. “There’s something you aren’t telling me. I’m not _stupid_ ; you carry a gun, you fight like fucking Bruce Lee, you always come home late from work and now you’re getting hurt!”

Lauren breathes shallowly, gaze flickering over Camila’s face. “Camila. Listen, it’s nothing, really—”

“I’m only going to ask one more time,” Camila interrupts sharply. “What’s going on?”

“My father loves guns and taught me how to use one and I carry one because it makes me feel safe. My fighting is nothing special, I just took a few karate lessons as a child. I’m the head manager at work so I have a lot of responsibility.”

Lauren winces at the deeply disappointed look Camila shoots her. She shakes her head and walks away without a word.

“Camila?”

Lauren follows her through the apartment to the bedroom and watches Camila pull on jeans and a t-shirt. She’s alarmed when Camila starts packing her things.

“Baby, what are you doing?” She asks nervously but Camila ignores her. She swipes her phone off the nightstand and attempts to storm past Lauren but Lauren grabs her before she can get away.

“Let go!” Camila demands, struggling against Lauren.

“No! Wait! Where are you going?” Lauren easily pins her against the wall and keeps her there.

“To my apartment!”

“You know you aren’t safe there!” Lauren argues even though she is as Lauren long ago took care of the men who assaulted her, but Camila doesn’t know that.

“I’d rather be there than here with a _liar_!” Camila spits and Lauren winces. Camila twists out of her grab and stalks off.

“No, baby, wait, _wait_!” Lauren catches her in the living room and grabs her face between her hands. “Please, will you listen to me?”

Camila says nothing but makes no attempt to leave.

Lauren takes a deep breath. “Look. I can’t tell you what’s going on. Not yet anyway. Will you believe me when I tell you that it isn’t the right time? Please, baby. I promise I will tell you soon. Don’t leave me.”

Camila’s bottom lip trembles and she looks down. “I just…I don’t know what you’re involved in, Lauren, but I don’t wanna lose you.” She looks up at her wide-eyed. “I love you.”

Lauren’s heart melts and she’s never going to get tired of hearing that. She kisses her deeply.

“I love you,” she replies. “You aren’t going to lose me. I promise. Believe in me, baby.” 

Camila sighs and curls her arms around Lauren’s waist, dropping her head on her shoulder. “You have to tell me soon.”

Lauren cradles the back of her head and nods.

“Soon. I promise.”

She looks up at the ceiling, silently praying that the truth won’t drive the love of her life away.

 

Lauren visits Normani in the hospital. Keana held her promise about keeping it off the records, to avoid alerting the authorities. She gets confirmation that both Normani and the baby are both safe, and she even gets to hear the baby’s heartbeat.

Normani looks healthier, sitting up in bed with Lucas stuck by her side. There’s a large bouquet of beautiful flowers on the table, making the whole room smell like a garden. 

“They’re from Papá,” Lucas tells her. 

Lauren nods and looks at Normani, glancing at her flat stomach, still unable to believe that she’s carrying her brother’s child. Her future niece or nephew. It’s a heartwarming thought.

“He’s a little fighter. Like his mommy and daddy,” she grins, treasuring the look of overwhelming happiness on her brother’s face.

“He?” Normani raises a brow. “What makes you think it’s a boy?”

Lauren shrugs. “I just have a feeling. Who knows, I might be wrong and you’re carrying little twins.”

Normani’s eyes widen in alarm and she groans. “God no. I’m already overwhelmed by the thought of _one_.”

“Don’t worry, _mi amoda_ ,” Lucas coos, “I’m going to be there for you every step of the way.”

Lauren rolls her eyes. “Jesus, were you always this sappy?”

Normani laughs. “He’s been insufferable.” She pats his hand gently when he pouts. 

“Have we found out who attacked us last night?” Normani asks returning her attention on Lauren.

Before Lauren can responds, Lucas speaks, “You don’t have to worry yourself about that. You heard what Keana said, keep yourself away from stress. It’s not good for the baby.”

Normani scowls at Lucas. “Alright, I’ve about had it with you treating me like a fucking porcelain doll. I think I know better than you what I can and cannot handle.”

“I’m just looking out for you,” Lucas protests, “I told you. I’m going to take care of it.”

“Lucas. Shut up,” Normani snaps and looks at Lauren. “Tell me what you found out.”

Lauren hesitates, gaze pin ponging between her twin and Normani. She heaves a sigh. 

“The Devil’s Hand is what they call themselves,” Lauren reveals. “A gang of white devil worshippers who were supposed to have been all but eradicated back in the 90s. apparently, they’re into human sacrifice; a real nasty bunch.”

“Human sacrifice?” Lucas repeats. “Are you kidding me?”

“I’m afraid. I’ve dug around a little before I came here and it turns out a lot of young girls went missing in the early 90s, because they sacrificed them to their lord and savior Lucifer.” Lauren is somewhat concerned that she’s dealing with a bunch of literally insane people.

“Jesus,” Normani mutters in shock.

“On a scale from one to ten, how mad was Papá?”

Lauren scoffs. “Volcanic. He wants me to bring their heads on a platter. I’ve got people out looking for them and anything or anyone that can lead us to them.”

Her phone beeps with a text; it’s from her father, summoning her.

“I have to go.” She leans over and gives Normani a quick hug. “Stay safe.”

“Hey, sis. Wait up,” Lucas calls as jogs to catch up to her down the wall.

“What’s up?” 

Lucas runs a hand through his curls, “Um, you haven’t told Papá about…the baby, have you?”

Lauren shakes her head. “Of course not. That’s not my place. When are you going to tell him?”

Lucas grimaces a bit. “Not yet. You know how he feels about pre-marital pregnancies.”

Lauren smirks. “Yeah. He’s going to have you marry her before she starts showing.”

Lucas licks his lips. “Yeah…about that.”

Lauren stops suddenly and stares at Lucas. “Oh…you’re going to…?”

Lucas searches her face, “I want to. Yes, I want to propose.”

Lauren has no idea how to react and it’s clear Lucas is looking at her for an opinion.

“Wow,” she manages eventually, “Eh. I don’t know, Luke. Do you think it’s the right time?”

Lucas’ face breaks out into a smile and that’s when he looks like Lauren the most—she can see herself in the brightness of his eyes. “I love her and she’s having my baby. Yes, I think it’s the right time.”

Lauren’s face gentles out and she grabs Lucas’ wrist. “I’m happy for you, Lucas. Whatever you decide to do, you know you’ve got my full support.” She wraps her arms around him and hugs him tight.

“Thank you,” he says and she can hear the smile in his voice. “Love you, sis.”

“Love you too, bro.”

 

Lauren combs through the entirety of the city, leaving no alley, nook or corner unturned. She employs every street crony they have for intel until they finally find someone who has a link to the Devil’s Hand. It’s a momentary success and Lauren tells them to keep him alive for her, intent on personally extracting the information she needs.

Except things don’t go the way she planned. The man is assassinated before Lauren can get to him, and suddenly it becomes even clearer that they’ve got a rat in their midst. The suspicion is only further cemented a week later when another top-secret drug operation is ambushed by the Devil’s Hand and some of their most loyal men end up in police custody.

It creates a lot of unrest and distrust within the Latino family, and it doesn’t make it better that Lauren was overseeing the operation. Of course, it gives the misogynists ammunition to blast her for taking on more than she could handle.

Lauren is beyond stressed. Her father started putting her in charge of major projects when she turned twenty and she’s never let him or the family down, earning their trust and respect easily. It baffles her that they so easily turn against her and she swears if it had been Lucas in her place, they would’ve been more lenient on him.

She puts everything she has in her to make this right, in the process neglecting everything else—including Camila. She feels guilty every time she’s faced with Camila’s disappointed eyes when she keeps turning down offers to spend time together.

 

Lauren sits at a table outside Starbucks as she sips to her caramel Frappuccino. She’s waiting for Lucas. They’re planning to track down a hacker who has worked for them before in hopes that he can give them access to street surveillance. 

Lucas is late and Lauren is annoyed. She shoots him a text telling him to get his ass there _ASAP_.

**I’ll be there in a sec !**

**You better be**. 

Another few minutes crawls by and Lauren receives another text. This one isn’t from Lucas, but from Camila. It’s a cute selfie with the text _Miss you :( x_ , and Lauren heart throbs a little bit.

**I’m sorry, baby. Let me take you out for dinner tonight**

She receives another selfie of Camila grinning **yaay!** , and it spreads a smile across Lauren’s lips.

She sees someone take the seat across from her.

“Finally. What was taking you so…” She trails off upon realizing that it isn’t her brother sitting across from her. No, it’s the Devil’s Hand guy from the dock and Lauren automatically reaches for her gun.

“No, don’t do something stupid, Lauren,” He drawls, his gun is already out, hidden underneath the table and Lauren swallows. “We’re being watched.”

Lauren glares at him, every part of her body tense. He’s wearing a ratty t-shirt with more holes in it than French cheese, this close, Lauren can see the color of his eyes, ocean blue and as cold as the bottom of it and ever-present, unnerving smirk on his pink lips.

He gestures to the left with his head. “They’ve been following you all day, haven’t you noticed?”

Lauren throws a quick glance at where’s gesturing towards and she catches sight of a conspicuous black car parked across from the café. Feds. _Fuck_. If they’ve started staking her out, that meant they must have something on her and the thought agitated her greatly.

She looks back at the man. “I guess I haven’t noticed you following me either.”

He scoffs softly and pulls the gun back, Lauren closely following his every move. “I’m disappointed. You aren’t half as good as they make you out to be.”

Lauren raises a brow. “No? And who are ‘they’?”

“Everyone,” He smirks, “You’re quite popular in the underworld, you must know that. The Cuban Princess of the Latino Family.”

Lauren’s nose flares, her fingers itching to reach across the table and wrap around his throat, squeezing until his lungs went flat. “And who exactly are you?”

“You can call me _MGK_. Nice to meet you, Lauren Jauregui.”

“MGK,” Lauren repeats unimpressed. “You can’t hide forever. I’ll find you eventually and then I’m going to enjoy killing you.”

MGK has the audacity to throw his head back and laugh, a deep, throaty sound that grates on Lauren’s last nerves. She watches the way his adam’s apple bobs and wonders what it would feel like to drive a knife through it. 

“No, sweetheart, that’s not what’s going to happen.” He leans forward and Lauren tenses. “You know, one thing they say is true; you’re truly beautiful. It’s almost a shame that you have to die.”

Lauren glances at the Fed´s car and turns her scowl back on MGK, speaking through gritted teeth. “We’ll see about that.”

MGK grins, all danger and sharp teeth. “I’ll see you soon, Lauren.” He stands up, throws her a wink and saunters away. Lauren can do nothing but seethe in silence and watch him walk away. If she wasn’t motivated to hunt his ass down before, she definitely is now. The possibility that he might be the brain—or part of it—behind everything has become clear to her.

Lucas arrives less than two minutes later and Lauren rises, grabbing his wrist and dragging him along.

“Hey! Wait a minute! I want a coffee, what’s the rush?” He complains as he pulls his wrist out of her grip.

“You can’t have a coffee. Keep walking. The feds are watching us—don’t look!” She grabs Lucas’ jaw before he can sneak a look. 

“The feds?” Lucas hisses under his breath. “Fuck. How long have they been sniffing around?”

“I don’t know, but we have to lose them,” She says and climbs into her car, pulling out once Lucas is settled in next to her. A few twists and turns later and there’s no longer a black car trailing behind them.

“How much do you think they know?” Lucas asks, glancing over his shoulder.

“Not enough and we have to keep it that way.” She stops for a red light and looks at her brother. “Do you remember the guy I told you about from the dock? The one who was just standing atop some container and watching us. Yeah, that guy just approached and threatened me.”

Lucas’ face whips towards her. “What?” He snarls, eyes flashing. “While the Feds were watching?”

“Yeah. Either he’s incredibly stupid or he knows something we don’t know. Either way, the only thing I got from him was a name—MGK. I don’t know if it’s a code for something or just a dumb ass name.”

“Already on it,” Lucas mutters as he texts something on his phone. “That motherfucker. He doesn’t get to threaten you and get away with it.”

“I’m not planning on letting him get away. Let’s just hope Ed is willing to help us.”

“We don’t need to worry. We’ve always been good at persuasion.” Lucas shoots Lauren a knowing grin and she smirks.

“Yeah.”

 

On her way home, she receives a cute little video of Camila trying on a pair of different dresses for their date night, and it makes Lauren floor the speeder, eager to get home to her girl. She stops by a flower ship and grabs a bouquet of pink tulips—Camila’s favorite flowers, she says they symbolizes the innocence of true love.

She throws open the door, ready to take Camila in her arms and kiss her breathless.

“Baby! I’m home!” She calls cheerily and kicks the door closed behind her, walking into the apartment.

She gets no response and she ignores the sudden strong gut feeling. 

“Camila?” She walks through the room, into their bedroom, every step feeling like lead, her sensing gradually flying into red alert. 

Camila isn’t in the bedroom either. There’s a navy-blue dress on the floor. Lauren’s breath comes out shallow and she bends down, picking up the piece of clothing. Everything inside of her is screaming at her that’s something wrong, but she refuses to believe it. She drops the dress and half runs through the apartment, looking everywhere, her heart pounding in her ears.

There’s nothing amiss in the apartment, but Camila is nowhere to be found. Lauren nearly drops her phone with how hard her fingers shaking as she calls Camila’s phone and she stops breathing when it starts ringing in the apartment.

Lauren is forced to face the terrifying reality that someone has taken Camila.

_Her_ Camila.

Panic surges through her vein, tainting her blood but it doesn’t last long. It’s quickly replaced by white hot _anger_ electrifying her every nerve and before she knows it, she’s trashing half the apartment in blind rage. How fucking dare they take the most important person in Lauren’s life, how dare they lay a finger on Camila’s perfect head of hair, how fucking _dare_ they.

It doesn’t take a genius to figure out who’s stupid enough to do this. MGK and his cronies and what baffles Lauren is how personal this attack is. Once the anger dies down a little, the apartment is left in shambles, but Lauren doesn’t care.

There’s only one thing in her mind.

Finding the Devil’s Hand. She might’ve had trouble tracking them down before, but now the stakes have risen and there’s no more room for failing. She will find MGK and his men if it’s the last thing she does.

She will burn this damn city to the fucking ground if she must until she has Camila safe in her arms.

 

Lauren moves heavens and earth in search for the girl that stole her heart. She puts every single man and woman under her command on the task, ordering to do whatever it takes—every single dirty trick in the book, she doesn’t care as long as they find Camila or anything that can help them find her. Of course, none of them understands why it’s so vital to find this girl they’ve never heard of, but they’re loyal to Lauren and follows her lead without questions. She doesn’t have to worry about her father having a stroke at the use of their resources since she’s essentially killing two birds with one stone.

As she works, she cool, collected and calculated, murderous intent itching at her fingers but the panic and terror is bubbling just under the surface. She refuses to acknowledge them, they will do nothing to help her cause. 

However when there’s gone more than 24 hours since Lauren last saw Camila and she hasn’t slept a wink, they make an appearance. She can’t stop thinking about a scared Camila, desperately waiting for Lauren to save her and she almost goes insane when her brain plagues her with thoughts of what they might be doing to her, how they might be hurting her. Images of Camila’s tears flashes through her mind and her stomach lurches. 

She feels disgustingly weak when she finds herself hugging the toilet bowl, dry heaving into it. 

In the ungodly hours of the morning, the intensity of the blame she feels is unbearable. She should’ve seen this coming a mile away. The Devil’s Hand has been exclusively targeting operations she’s connected to, MGK—who appears to be the ring leader—has even gone out of his way to personally threaten Lauren. Of course, they would take Camila, doubtlessly knowing she’s Lauren’s Achille’s heel. She should’ve known. She should’ve been home to protect Camila. She should’ve installed an alarm system and security cameras. Fuck, she should’ve hired a couple of bodyguards.

 _Should. Should. Should. Should_ It spins around Lauren’s mind driving her to the edge of insanity and then something happens. 

They finally find someone with undeniable ties to the Devil’s Hand. Lauren nearly crashes with how fast she drives to make it to where Lucas and their guys have him bound, because damn her if anyone is going to kill him before she gets the information she wants.

The man looks like the personification of racism with his bald head, tattooed face, translucent skin and hateful eyes.

“Where’s Camila?” Lauren asks him directly the minute she steps into the room. She doesn’t have time for beating around the bush.

“Fuck you, you border hopping Mexican slut,” he snarls and Lauren swings at him, catching him in the jaw with a hook mean enough for his teeth to rattle in his skull.

Lauren fists the front of his shirt, eyes flashing menacingly. “Listen to me, you piece of white trash. Either you’re going to tell me what I want to know or I will have you begging me to end your pathetic life.”

The man glares defiantly into her eyes, his own a storm of malice. Then he makes the fatal mistake of spitting in her face, blood and spittle dripping down her chin.

“I’ll see you in hell, bitch.”

She releases her grip on him and takes a step back. Her lips curl up in a dangerous, sharky smile.

“The hard way then.”

A few minutes later, the blood curling scream of anguish emitting from the building sends a flock of birds scattering into the sky.

As Lauren predicted, the Devil Hand’s crony’s tough exterior compensated for what a huge cowardly piece of racist shit he is. He cracks in under thirty minutes, disclosing where they’re keeping Camila.

Lauren is about to run out of the door when Lucas grabs her arm, stopping her. “You can’t just storm off. You don’t know what you’re walking in to. We gotta make a plan and—”

“There’s no time for that!” Lauren interrupts and jerks out of his grip, rushing out of the building and into her car.

 

It’s an old, abandoned railway station in the outskirts of Miami city. Plant life has overtaken the station, weeds pouring out of the trail tracks and climbing up the side of the dilapidated trains. Everything is cast in darkness by the black sky who’s hidden away its stars behind the thick clouds, making the place skin-crawlingly eerie.

Lauren moves in the shadow towards the station, her steps soundless. She ditched her car about a mile away or else they would’ve heard her coming. As she closes in, she hears chatter and her fingers curl tightly around her trusted glock.

She peers around the side of a rickety train and there’s two men standing on the steps leading into the station, smoking and arguing about something. They’re both armed, one of them carrying an AK-47 over his shoulder. Lauren screws on the silencer on her gun and sneaks closer. They’re too busy talking to each other to even notice her and once they do it’s too late.

Within a few seconds, they’re both on the ground with a bullet-shaped hole in their faces and Lauren steps over their dead bodies without a glance back. She takes out a few more Devil’s Hand’s cronies and follows the glow of light. It leads her to the platform and she takes in the scene that meets her.

There’s a large five-pointed star surrounded by a circle drawn against the cracked concrete. Burning candles lines the circle around the star, and Lauren feels the goosebumps rise on her skin. Lauren’s eyes scan the men present and stutters upon a familiar figure.

Camila.

She’s alive and it sends a rush of relief through Lauren’s veins. She appears unharmed as she stands there in the background, watching one of the guys lighting the remaining candles. As if she feels Lauren’s gaze on her, she turns and looks directly at Lauren, her eyes widening when she sees her.

Lauren motions for her to be silent and take cover. Camila nods and silently inches backwards. Lauren counts the Devil’s Hand’s cronies; there’s five of them. Lauren takes a deep breath, steps out her hiding and starts shooting. They drop like flies, barely getting a chance to register what happens let alone lift their weapons before they hit the ground.

And then there’s only Lauren and Camila. 

Lauren runs towards her, taking her in her arms. “Baby, are you okay? Did they touch you? Did they hurt you”

Camila shakes her head. “No, no, I’m okay.”

“Thank God,” Lauren breathes and cradles Camila’s face, pressing her mouth against hers.

It’s first then that she realizes that there’s something wrong. It’s the way Camila is stiff in her arms and the way she doesn’t kiss her back. Lauren pulls back and stares at Camila, feeling a chill drip down her back at the unrecognizable expression on Camila’s face.

“Camila?” She whispers, heart pounding.

Camila doesn’t respond, and Lauren takes a step back. Then she feels something hard and cold pressing into the back of her head. A gun.

“Hello, Lauren. I’ve been waiting for you.” The voice behind her is familiar and so close, she can feel the warmth of his breath

MGK.

Lauren stares at Camila, but Camila won’t look back at her, instead staring at the ground. She doesn’t look terrified or distressed that Lauren has a gun to the back of her head as she should be and Lauren’s heart refuses to accept the soul-crushing reality of the situation.

“Give me your gun, Lauren,” MGK demands, pressing the gun harder against Lauren’s skull. Lauren takes a shaky breath and loosen her hold on the gun, letting MGK slip it out of her hand. “Is that all you brought?”

Lauren’s jaw clenches. “Yes.”

MGK chuckles. “Liar.”

He tugs her shirt up and removes the gun tucked in the waistband of her jeans. He pats her down and gets more handsy than necessary, finding the sleek knife she has hidden in her boots. Once he has rendered her unarmed, he circles around her until he’s standing in front of her and Lauren glares bloody murder at his irritating smirk.

“You came here alone? You’re more stupid than I thought,” MGK taunts. “But then again, you fell into the trap I set for you with both eyes closed.”

Lauren doesn’t have to wonder which trap he’s talking about, because then he curls his arm around Camila’s shoulder, bringing her close. Camila looks back at Lauren with perfectly empty eyes.

Lauren stops breathing as she feels her heart crack open in two, pouring out nothing but overwhelming pain. Her heart refuses to believe what her brain already knows even though the evidence is right in front of her. Camila betrayed her. It feels a little like the world is spinning around and she’s in a free fall, waiting for the impact that will inevitably crush her. Lauren was once shot in the shoulder a couple of years back, but she doesn’t remember the pain being remotely close to what she’s experiencing now. She wouldn’t mind taking a thousand of bullets instead.

It doesn’t feel real and she wishes for nothing but to wake up from this nightmare; wake up with Camila in her arms, smiling at her with love in her eyes instead of the total void that has replaced it. 

In hindsight, everything suddenly becomes alarmingly obvious. Things only started to go wrong the second Lauren let Camila into her home, so it’s no wonder that the Devil’s Hand somehow got their hands on information that only Lauren and a few other people would know. Camila was providing it to them.

“Aw, don’t look like that,” MGK coos mockingly. “I don’t blame you. My baby is fucking irresistible.” 

Then he kisses Camila.

Lauren’s world suddenly dissolves in red. She lunges for the gun of the corpse lying a few feet away but she sent scrambling back when MGK shoots at her feet.

“You don’t wanna do that,” He scolds as he walks towards her, gun pointing at her chest. “Don’t force me to kill you in a way you weren’t supposed to die.”

Lauren doesn’t even want to know what that means, but she’ll probably find out soon enough.

“I need you to walk into the middle of that pentagram,” he orders, gesturing towards the satanic star and Lauren really doesn’t like where this is heading. She stubbornly stays in place and he clicks his tongue and forcefully shoves her towards it. “I said _walk_.”

Lauren glances at Camila but she’s just watching them with that eerily unreadable expression on her face. Once she’s in the middle of the pentagram, MGK kicks the back of her knees, causing her to drop to the concrete with a pained grunt.

“Good girl,” he says. “I would’ve loved to have you on your knees for me in a different situation, but we can’t all have what we want, can we?”

“Please, shut the fuck up,” Lauren snaps. She would rather die than to listen to the sound of his voice for a second longer.

MGK’ eyes flash and he circles her ominously. “Do you know our family’s history together, Lauren?”

Lauren doesn’t respond, because obviously he’s going to enlighten her either way.

MGK stops up in front of her. “It isn’t a fairy tale one. Your father had my whole family murdered.”

Lauren scowls at him. “Unfortunately, he forgot you.”

“They raped and murdered my pregnant mother,” he reveals, a darkness descending upon his face. “They raped my _ten_ year old sister and left her to bleed out and die.”

Raping the women of a rivaling gang after their downfall can almost be called a part of the mafia culture, and Lauren despises it strongly. Luckily the occurrence has declined as more women rose to power in the underworld, though it remains a large problem. Her father is strongly against it, so it’s hard for Lauren to believe that he would’ve allowed such a thing to happen. Then again, this was twenty years ago and she doesn’t know what kind of man her father used to be.

MGK has no reason to make that up and the look on his face supports that.

“But he forgot me and that is his fatal mistake. I don’t forget and I don’t forgive. I’m going to take everything away from him, the same way he took everything from me. Then I’m going to kill him in the most humiliating way he can imagine.”

“That’s a nice vengeance fantasy, but a bit delusional, don’t you think,” Lauren says, sarcasm dripping from her voice. “My father is more powerful than you would ever dream of becoming. He has allies in every corner of the world. You can’t lay a finger on him.”

A knowing grin spreads across MGK’s face. “See that’s where you’re wrong. I know that your father and the Latino family have a meeting at his house at this very moment. In less than an hour, a bomb will go off and sweet justice will be served.”

Lauren stomach drops. “You son of a bitch.” Her mind goes frantic with ways to get out of this predicament and warn her family, but it’s fruitless.

MGK laughs. “Don’t worry. You will be joining them soon.” He points the gun at her head. “Any last words?”

Lauren looks at Camila, but the girl refuses to meet her gaze. “Look at me!” Lauren yells, “Have the fucking decency to look me in the eyes and watch me die, Camila. It’s the least you could do after what you did.”

Camila slowly raises her gaze and Lauren desperately searches her gaze for something, _anything_ , because surely everything wasn’t a lie; there must at least be a fraction of truth to what they had together. Then she sees something, a glimmer in Camila’s eyes and she moves.

Lauren never gets to see what she would’ve done as gunshots ring through the air the next moment. A bullet catches MGK in the shoulder and he shouts out in pain. It gives Lauren the crucial couple of seconds to scramble to her feet and get away.

“No!” MGK yells but the bullets raining down force him to take cover behind a pillar. Lauren grabs a gun from one of the corpses and takes cover as well.

“Lauren!”

It’s Lucas and Dinah

MGK gets his hand on an automatic rifle and fires off a barrage of bullets at them, forcing them all to dive for cover. Once he has created the opening, he turns on his heels and runs, knowing that he’s outmanned. 

“Oh hell no!” Lucas snarls and runs after him. Dinah makes to follow but Lauren grabs her wrist.

“Dinah! I need you to call my father and tell him to evacuate everyone! There’s a bomb! Do it now!”

Dinah’s eyes widen and she quickly pulls out her phone. “Where are you going?”

Lauren doesn’t respond as she spurts in the direction she saw Camila disappear off too. There’s no way in hell she’s letting her get away.

Lauren sees her running towards a car and she raises her gun, shouting, “Stop! Or I’ll shoot!”

Camila skids to a halt but doesn’t turn around. Lauren inches closer until she’s standing right behind her.

“Turn around slowly,” she orders, voice breathless, heart rattling in her ribcage.

Camila obliges and carefully turns around, but then she surprises Lauren when she grabs her wrist in one smooth, fast movement. She spins the gun away from her and twists Lauren’s arm and with unexpected strength, she flips Lauren to the ground.

Lauren gasps as the air is knocked out of her lungs and she loses grip of the gun. Camila reaches for it, but Lauren isn’t going to let her get it that easily. She snatches Camila’s ankle and gives an almighty pull, causing Camila to lose her balance and crash to the floor.

Lauren is on top of her in the next breath, fingers around her throat, pinning her to the ground. Camila headbutts her so hard, Lauren sees stars and she grunts when Camila lifts her off her with a kick to the stomach. While Lauren rolls on the floor, catching her breath, Camila scrambles for the gun.

“Fuck no,” Lauren pants and leaps at her, catching her in a headlock. Camila struggles against her as Lauren squeezes her arm tighter against her throat. “Who the _fuck_ are you?”

It’s abundantly clear that Camila can fight and really well at that—since she can hold her own against Lauren who has received years of rigid, formal training. 

Lauren gets no answer, instead she gets Camila twisting out of her grip and attempting to throw her down. Lauren regains her balance and strikes out at Camila. Camila ducks her fists and hits Lauren in the jaw, causing her to taste blood in her mouth. Lauren brings up her knee, driving into Camila’s kidney and she cries out, stumbling back.

The fight only grows in intensity, each of them matching the other’s kick and punch easily, dodging and ducking and drawing each other’s blood. In the middle of it, Lauren can’t help but think what a kickass team they would make if they were on the same side, and how did they end up here again? As the minutes progress, it becomes clear that the only thing that will end the fight is the gun. Lauren can see the same realization in Camila’s eyes and they simultaneously dive for the gun.

They end up on the ground, struggling against each other and before Lauren knows of it, they’re pulling at each other’s hair like a pair of bickering teenagers, the gun just within reach. 

Then Lauren’s hand closes around it and she’s on her feet, pointing it at Camila.

Camila looks up at her from the ground, blood dripping from her panting lips. Her hair is wild from the tumble and it looks the way it does after they’ve had sex, Lauren bitterly notes and she hates herself for still finding her heartbreakingly beautiful. She had been convinced she’d found her soulmate, but Camila had been playing her like a fiddle.

“Was any of it real?” She can’t help but ask, unable to hide the tremor in her voice. “Or was it all a lie?”

Camila doesn’t say anything for a few moments. She looks guilty which perhaps means she isn’t completely heartless. Then she shakes her head.

“No,” she says simply.

“No what?!” Lauren roars. “It wasn’t a lie? Or it wasn’t real?”

Camila wipes her bruised, bloodied lip with the back of her hand. “It wasn’t all a lie, Lauren.”

“Are you just saying that because I have you at gun point?” Lauren snarls. “Don’t fucking lie to me. You tricked me. You were going to let me die. You were going to let my whole fucking family die.”

“I regret it,” Camila confesses, voice barely above a whisper. “And I wasn’t….” she trails off, swallowing thickly. She stares at the ground. “…it wasn’t part of the plan.”

“What wasn’t part of the plan?”

“I wasn’t supposed to care about you,” Camila says as she meets Lauren’s burning eyes, “I wasn’t supposed to fall in love with you.”

Lauren’s breath catches and she feels a familiar sting in her eyes. 

“Bullshit!” She cries. “What makes you think I’ll ever believe a word that comes out of your mouth ever again?”

Camila offers her a sad little smile. “You’re right, but I really loved you Lauren, I really did. I never deserved you. I’m sorry.”

Lauren blinks rapidly to chase away the tears burning her eyes. 

“I gave you everything,” she whispers, “and you betrayed me.”

Camila cautiously rises to her feet and Lauren grips the gun tighter, sneering, “Don’t fucking move.”

Camila ignores her and gently steps towards her.

“I’m warning you!” Lauren wants to pull the trigger, but she simply _can’t_. It’s like her whole body is fighting against her and she feels the sweat drip down her temple, breath weak and shallow. 

Camila doesn’t stop moving until the gun is pressing against her chest and she looks Lauren in the eye. She gives her a smile that reminds Lauren of the girl she fell so deeply in love with.

“It’s ok,” she utters softly. “Do it.”

Lauren’s hand is shaking and she stares into Camila’s eyes. She feels something wet slide down her cheeks and she realizes it’s tears.

“Don’t cry, my love.” Camila cradles her cheek, wiping away the tear and Lauren gasps at the gentle touch. She wonders if Camila is deceiving her, knowing that Lauren can’t kill her. Lauren doesn’t care in that moment. Her _heart_ doesn’t care.

She drops the gun, grabs the back of Camila’s neck and brings her in for a hard, desperate kiss. Camila groans and kisses her back, and Lauren can taste everything in that kiss; the hurt, the pain, the anger, the apologies, the regret, but most importantly, the fiery passion.

Lauren’s heart desperately wants to believe that they can overcome this and grow stronger from it. She wants to believe what the movies and fairy tales keep telling everyone—that true love prevails all.

She’s brought back from her fantasy by the sound of her name being called from the distance and she pulls back from the kiss. She strokes her hand over Camila’s beautiful face and Camila’s lashes flutter.

Lauren takes a deep breath and whispers, “Go.” She knows that her brother is going to be less forgiving.

Camila hesitates and searches her eyes. 

“Go!” Lauren insists, louder this time.

“Come with me,” Camila begs and reaches for her but Lauren steps out of her reach, shaking her head.

“I can’t.” The voices calling for her are getting closer. “Go while you still have a chance.”

Camila swallows and nods. She turns on her heels and sprints towards the car. She opens the door and throws Lauren a last lingering look and the softest of smiles before she gets in. Lauren watches her speed off, feeling her heart falling apart all over again.

Once Lucas and Dinah reach her, Camila’s car is nothing but lights in the distance.

“Are you alright? What happened?” Lucas says, looking Lauren over and then glancing at the disappearing car with confusion written all over his face.

“I’m fine,” Lauren mutters, “Is Papá and everyone else safe?”

“Yeah, but his mansion is blown to smithereens,” Dinah snorts.

“And MGK?”

“Dead,” Lucas responds. “Where did Camila go? Were you fighting?”

Lauren shakes her head. “It doesn’t matter. Let’s just get out of here.”

“No.” Lucas grabs her arm and stares at her. “Were she…it was her, wasn’t it?”

“What?” Dinah asks confused but then realization dawns in her eyes. “ _Oh_!”

“She was part of this? And you let her get away!?” Lucas exclaims incredulously. “Are you fucking kidding me? We have to get her!”

“It’s over,” Lauren snaps. “It’s _done_.”

She throws a last glance towards the distance before she turns and walks away, heart heavier than lead.

**1 year later. Havana, Cuba.**

It isn’t Lauren’s first time in Havana. She’s been here a handful of times, never since she turned twenty. She wishes she had visited more often, because everything about Havana is addicting; from the colorful people, the culture, the weather and the _food_.

She’s sitting in an outside café sipping to a delicious cup of Cuban coffee, watching the people walking by, enjoying the sound of their unreduced chatter and laughter. 

Someone slips into the seat across from her and she looks at the beautiful girl in the beautiful white dress.

“You had me waiting,” Lauren says.

Camila grins. “I’m sorry.”

Lauren reaches across the table and takes her hand.

“No worries.”

**Author's Note:**

> i want to learn to write short oneshots so if any of you have any ideas then let me know! 
> 
> all the love


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